The Star's Daughter
by elenamindollin
Summary: Ever wonder why she smiled? Or whether the banter about enchantments and princesses was simply idle talk or did it have a deeper meaning? This is the story of the woman who became Prince Rilian's mother. More complete summary inside. book/movieverse
1. In Medias Res

**So, super short "chapters" annoy me, and now that I actually have chapter one written to my satisfaction, I'm combining them. So my apologies if that throws anyone for a loop. **

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**Prologummary**

_"Lady," said Caspian, "I hope to speak with you again when I have broken the enchantments." And Ramandu's daughter looked at him and smiled._

The annals of the kings of Narnia chronicle the lives and stories of the great kings of old. But they contain little or no information about the women that they married. Why did the star's daughter smile? Why did Caspian and his crew trust her so implicitly? Was it simply her good countenance and exquisite beauty? Or was there perhaps a deeper connection that only she recognized? Like all historical tales, there are often untold stories buried deep within legend. This is the story of Ramandu's daughter, and how she came to be at the Beginning of the End of the World…

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**Chapter One: En Medias Res**

_It all started with one disobedient girl and a father's prayer for her safety. Arrani had sailed away from her father's home at the Beginning of the End of the World because she wanted to see the lands her father had watched over as a star for herself. Ramandu tried in vain to put a stop to her fantasies about Narnia and Archenland and Ettinsmoor and Calormen, but to no avail. She would not be swayed. At last, one night, she crept aboard the old vessel left by the three sleeping Lords of Telmar and turned its sails to the west, sailing away from the sun and the land of her birth. _

_Awaking and finding her gone, Ramandu called desperately for Aslan's aid._

_"I am here, Star Ramandu," Aslan's voice replied gently._

_"Please, O Noble Aslan," Ramandu begged, "my daughter has sailed for the Westward Lands. Do not let any harm befall her and bring her back safely to these shores."_

_"Peace, my son," the Great Lion replied, "I will not return her to you by force. She, as all my children, has the right to make her own decisions. A great journey awaits her, from which she will learn much about herself and about the world in which she lives. Fear not, Ramandu, you have taught her and trained her well. She will be able to take care of herself."_

_"But, will I see her again?"_

_The Lion regarded the anxious Star with loving understanding. "She will return to these shores soon, my son, though she will not be the daughter you know now."_

_"No?"_

_"No, she will have risen to fill the shoes she is destined to fill, and she will be a great woman, worthy of great blessings and happiness. Peace and patience, my son." _

_The Lion departed, leaving Ramandu seated weakly on a chair near the Three Sleepers, his silvery head resting in his aged and wrinkled hands. He knew that Aslan had spoken the truth, but he cursed the tempestuous turn of temper that took his Arrani away from him. She hadn't even bidden her father farewell, but left as a thief in the night, stealing away on a stolen vessel. Raising his head to greet the first rays of the sun; Ramandu watched the familiar flock of white birds streaking toward him from the east with their fire-berry that would take a little more of his age away from him. Almost absently, he wondered where Arrani was now…_

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The ringing clash of steel on steel rang out through the Shuddering Wood, accompanied by the heavy breathing of two young men and the shrieks of a young girl. Caspian ducked under the strange blond-haired boy's lunge and heard the satisfying thunk of the other boy's sword in the tree behind him. Kicking out hard, he slammed the stranger away from his attempts to dislodge the sword and Caspian used his opponent's recovery time to tug the sword free. Whirling it around expertly, he pointed it at his fallen opponent and braced himself for the downward strike.

"Stop!" a small feminine voice cried out suddenly. He looked to his left and saw a small figure in a crimson gown emerge from the bushes, her expression angry and desperate. Reluctantly, Caspian relaxed his stance. Dangerous as this strange young man might be – his fencing skills were certainly testimony enough of that – he, Caspian, would not murder in cold blood in the presence of a lady, however small she might be.

Regarding him with icy blue eyes, the other boy slid himself out from under the sword's tip and into a sitting position. Caspian snapped his attention back and redirected the sword at his throat. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"PETER!" another voice echoed through the forest as a lovely young woman and another dark haired boy emerged from the forest behind the first girl. Caspian blinked in astonishment as the fifth and last figure emerged, panting and wheezing from having to sprint after the long-legged children with him. It was Trumpkin! But why…? Caspian froze as he surveyed the figures before him more closely. They were clothed in gowns and tunics of exquisite make and looked, well, surprisingly regal for their ages. Two boys, two girls. The oldest girl carried a long, elegant bow and red-fletched arrows in a quiver that matched the horn resting in a pouch at his side. A tingle raced up his spine. It wasn't possible! Almost fearfully, he glanced down at the hilt and pommel of the sword he now held in his hands. Sure enough, it had a red leather grip and the pommel was a gold-plated lion's head.

"You're… High King Peter?" he gasped, not really believing his eyes.

The other boy raised an eyebrow, clearly saying, _it's about time you figured it out_. "Yes," he said slowly as he got to his feet, "And you must be Prince Caspian."

Caspian nodded, still staring agape at the person in front of him. He had almost killed the High King of Narnia!

Peter regarded him keenly. "You seem surprised."

"Well, I was expecting someone a bit more… well, you know… older."

"We can leave and come back in a few years," Peter suggested, making as if to leave.

"No wait, I didn't mean – it's just that you aren't what I was expecting."

"Well neither are you," the High King replied wryly.

Caspian grimaced slightly, feeling again the ineptitude he had experienced ever since his escape from Miraz's castle. "I suppose you'll be wanting this back," he said, turning the blade in his hands so that its hilt was toward Peter.

Peter took his sword back and slid it back into the sheath at his side while Caspian bent to retrieve his own sword from the grass a few feet away. "If we are going to be helping you," Peter spoke, looking around skeptically at the motley conglomeration of Minotaurs, Fauns, Talking Beasts, and Centaurs that had gathered around them, "we'll need weapons, supplies, and a defensible location."

Caspian grinned gratefully. "Come with me."

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**First chapter up and done. Aren't you proud? It's even the same day that I posted the story. Thank you to my speedy reviewers, you have no idea how good that makes me feel and how much that motivates me to keep going. Please, by all means continue your reviewing. Don't let me get in your way.**

**Elena**


	2. Unexpected Company

**Chapter Two: Unexpected Company**

Inside Aslan's How, there was a flurry of activity as the Old Narnians hammered, pounded, melted, sewed, cooked, and performed countless other tasks that accompanied preparations for war. "I know it's not what you're used to," Caspian said apologetically as he led the Kings and Queens through the cave-like structure, "but this is a lot better than it used to be."

"Your Highness!" a shaggy black minotaur said, approaching Caspian, "There is something you should see."

Glancing quickly at Peter, who nodded, Caspian followed the minotaur through the maze of corridors to a small room with a large flat rock in the center. Standing on this rock, with a knife pressed against the throat of a lovely young woman, was Nikabrik. "Caught her snooping around, sire," Nikabrik said, yanking slightly on her hair and pulling her head back, leaving her neck fully exposed to his knife. "She claims she has come from the lands across the sea to help the Narnians in their war against the Telmarines, but she couldn't tell me just where exactly she's from, nor could she tell me how she knew of our situation or where to find us. The whole thing stinks of Telmarine lies, sire," the Black Dwarf added, yanking sharply on her hair for emphasis.

Caspian bristled slightly at the reference to the Telmarines, but he said aloud, "Peace, Nikabrik. Release her and let her speak for herself."

"And untie her hands," Peter added, "enemy or not, she is a lady and deserves some respect. She will not get past us to escape."

"Who are you to issue orders?" Nikabrik snarled scornfully.

"He's High King Peter, you dolt," Trumpkin spoke up suddenly. "That horn of Caspian's worked."

Behind him, Caspian heard Queen Susan shift slightly and murmur, "Actually, its mine," to Lucy, who giggled briefly before hastily stifling it.

Sighing, Caspian directed Nikabrik, "Do as he says."

Grumbling audibly, the dwarf removed the knife from the maiden's throat and cut the ropes that bound her wrists together. She glared reproachfully at him and pulled the gag out of her mouth, spitting a little to remove the taste of it.

"Where did you find her?" Peter asked.

"I told you, she was snooping around the How, looking mighty skittish and suspicious," Nikabrik answered.

"Are you a Telmarine?" Peter asked her.

"No," Caspian answered at the same time that she shook her head. The others looked at him in surprise. "She's too fair," he said, than blushed as Peter raised a skeptical eyebrow and Trumpkin snorted ungraciously. "I mean, she too fair-skinned. Telmarines are darker. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin. She's not Telmarine."

"But she's human," Edmund pointed out. "I thought the only humans in Narnia were Telmarines."

"Half human," the girl replied.

"Sorry?" Peter turned his attention back to her.

"I'm only half human. My father is a retired star."

"'Retired star?'" Nikabrik repeated contemptuously, "What kind of hogwash is that? Who ever heard of a retired star?"

"Stars are balls of burning gas," Susan remarked, "How could one have a child?"

"In your world, maybe," the girl retorted, beginning to look annoyed and frustrated at being crossed so much.

"Wait," Lucy interrupted, just as Susan, Peter, and Nikabrik all opened their mouths to offer biting replies, "look! If you look at her just right, she's glowing."

Caspian turned to the youngest queen, perplexed. "No she isn't."

For answer, Lucy took his hand and pulled him into the place she'd just been standing. "Look just there, where her hand is in the shadow from her body."

Caspian looked where Lucy had directed him and sure enough, a faint glow surrounded the areas of her skin that were in the shadow. Just as soon as he saw it, however, the glow vanished and the girl folded her hands tightly under her arms, an odd blush creeping up her cheeks.

"Well, I suppose we'll let the 'star' theory slide for now," Peter said, having also looked at Lucy's direction and seen the strange glow. Carefully, he took a few steps closer to the rock on which she sat and knelt down to peer up into her face. Slowly, almost ceremoniously, he drew his sword and rested it almost casually on his arm, but Caspian wasn't fooled. He could slice her head off in a heartbeat if he tried. "Now," he said, sliding a thumb along the flat of his blade, "do you swear loyalty to Aslan?"

The hope and relief that flooded into her eyes could only be seen by Peter from his crouched position, but she said aloud and fervently, "By every bone in my body."

"What's your name?" Edmund asked. Apparently her answer had more than satisfied him, even though Peter still seemed to look skeptical.

She looked up into the young king's dark eyes and for the first time, she smiled. "Arrani."

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**I hope my readers don't mind the liberties I've taken with Ramandu's Daughter. She is remarkably undeveloped, but I hope that, whatever character quirks she may have in the beginning, I will be able to channel her into the great queen she will become. And the name is my own invention, since she is never named. So forgive me for that. Thanks and keep reviewing!**

**Elena**


	3. Aslan

**Thanks to my reviewers! Mercury Gray, thanks for your supportive reviews, they are much appreciated. I've looked at your story as well and dropped a review. To my readers, I recommend her story A Jewel in the Crown if you like Ramandu's Daughter fics. As for the name, it's of Celtic origin, I'm pretty sure. Actually, it's the ancient name of a city in Portugal that I ran across while reading one day. I thought it was pretty and held onto it for such an occasion. Anyway, enough rambling. If you haven't figured out by now, most of this story (except the end) will be PC movieverse with some sprinklings of bookverse as needed. Please enjoy. **

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**Chapter Three: Aslan's How**

Arrani found herself being greeted warmly by the youngest girl among her interrogators as High King Peter offered to help her to her feet. "Are you really the daughter of a star?" Lucy asked.

The young girl's buoyancy and youthful innocence charmed Arrani and she replied shyly, "Do _you _think I am?"

Lucy pondered this for a moment. "There are so many wonderful things in Narnia. I don't see why you couldn't be a star's daughter."

The others were still looking on with varying expressions on their faces. Peter and Susan still looked a bit skeptical, their reason and their understanding battling with their perceptions; Edmund looked relaxed and willing enough to accept that she might be telling the truth; Caspian still stood to one side, his expression ponderous. The two dwarfs had nearly opposite expressions. The one called Nikabrik still regarded her with unveiled contempt and annoyance, while the tawny-haired dwarf merely looked amused. She smiled down at Lucy and offered her hand. "Take it."

Lucy obeyed and gasped. Arrani knew she had been surprised by the warmth of her skin – several degrees hotter than that of a normal human. "You're warm!" Lucy exclaimed, looking pleased and awed at the same time.

"Yes," Arrani replied, trying not to show how amused she was by this lovely child, "I inherited a few traits from my father."

"What else can you do?" Edmund asked, coming up beside them as Peter and Caspian led the way back to the main room in the How.

"Do?" Arrani asked, puzzled.

"Yeah, like, create fire, or burn up something?" he replied.

She understood his meaning at last. "Oh, you mean what other powers do I have from my father?" Both Lucy and Edmund nodded. "Only the one I've shown you, I'm afraid. I'm only half star, and a retired star at that. My father no longer glows in the sky, but resides on land. Just like any human or beast. And I'm as short-lived and subject to illness and injury as my mother was."

"You can die?" the red-haired dwarf – whom Lucy introduced as Trumpkin – asked.

"Why else do you think I was afraid of that knife wielded by your kinsman?"

Trumpkin huffed in agreement. "You've got a point there."

They had fallen behind Susan, Peter, Caspian and Nikabrik and soon they were alone in the corridor, meandering peaceably along by the light of Edmund's torch. Suddenly Lucy pulled up short and gasped. "Look at this!" she exclaimed. "Ed, come closer with your light!"

Her older brother obeyed and the light threw into sharp relief the paintings and etchings that adorned almost every wall in the How. Somehow, amid the thousands of years of history that had been carved into the rough-hewn stone, Lucy had found the era to which she had first come. "It's us!" she declared, her hand tracing the outlines of the four crowned figures with wonder and amazement. "I must tell Peter!" Before the others could say anything, she had dashed off to catch up to her older siblings and within a minute, she was back, accompanied by Peter, Susan and Caspian. "Look, Peter!" she said, pointing.

Arrani was amused by the girl's fascination and astonishment at finding a picture of herself on the walls. Surely such art works had been commissioned during their time.

Looking around curiously, Peter gazed at etching after etching, which chronicled nearly every deed performed by the four Pevensies during their first visit to Narnia. "What is this place?" he asked in consternation.

The look on Prince Caspian's face was eloquently disbelieving. "You mean you don't know?" All four of the siblings stared at him, and he continued curtly, "Come with me."

Curious, Arrani followed in their wake, keeping just inside the light of the torches ahead of her. The ceiling of the corridor arched away from them, sweeping higher and higher as the ground on which they walked sloped downward. They emerged into a room so big that the light of the three torches Caspian, Peter and Edmund carried was lost in the darkness. With only a second's hesitation, Caspian took several steps to his left and plunged his torch into a large vat of oil that streamed into a narrow trough running all the way around the perimeter of the room. As the flames traveled swiftly across the darkness, their flickering light revealed a massive stone tablet, cracked down the center, that was flanked by two tall pillars and several smaller ones.

A collective gasp echoed around the room. Even Arrani, in her far away home at the edge of the world, had heard the stories and seen the depictions of Aslan's sacrifice to save the young traitor Edmund. One glance at Edmund's face told her how profoundly this room affected him. His composed expression cracked a little and allowed a pair of tears to slide down his cheeks.

Lucy approached the Stone Table with deep reverence and carefully laid a hand on its edge, staring lovingly up at the magnificent carving of a lion between the two pillars. "I think He knows what He's doing," she murmured, turning back to face her companions.

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_Don't forget to review! Unlike a lot of fanfic authors and contrary to my intitial tendency to try to tell my audience everything I can about my character right off, I'm deliberately holding out on you. More and more will be revealed throughout the story. And if some things don't make sense right now, don't worry, they will. _

_Cheers!_

_Elena_


	4. Accepted

_Due to a very helpful review from Mercury Gray, I took a second look at this chapter and made some alterations as per her observations. Hopefully the new version will alleviate some of the red flags, or at least change their color from red to a sort of dusty orange. :) It actually made the chapter longer, a little more detailed, and helped build the setup for a moment later on that I wanted but couldn't quite get to. So thanks, Mercury. This new, revised chapter is dedicated to you for your help!_

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**Chapter Four: Accepted**

While it was clear that Edmund and Lucy had accepted Arrani's explanations and Peter, Susan and Caspian at least appeared to be willing to let her stay in the How, she was not invited to the strategy meeting that convened the next evening. She didn't mind being excluded, especially when she considered that, from their perspective, she was untried and unproven beyond a few words and oaths. She would help them in whatever they attempted, but she would not force her presence where it was neither needed nor desired.

Instead of sitting and skulking about, waiting for the military leaders to conclude their meeting, she passed her time cultivating friendships with many of the extraordinary creatures that had joined Caspian's cause. Several hours passed, wherein Arrani amused them with old stories and legends that she had been taught by her father about the stars and constellations. Many of the stories made them laugh, especially the story of the silly leopard who tried to chase his tail and spun around so fast that he lifted into the sky and the stars rushed to keep him from falling back to his death. Their efforts to hold him up resulted in the constellation of the Leopard because the stars caught hold of him at enough places that they shone down on the lands of Aslan in same shape as the leopard they were holding up. Now the Leopard stayed in the sky to shed his light on his old homeland of Narnia, together with the Hammer and the Ship.

One of the leopards present laughed harder than all the rest. "Do you think if _I_ spin fast enough, I'll get up into the sky to meet him?" she asked teasingly.

Arrani laughed as well. "It's doubtful, Lady Leopard. Maybe if you asked him to come down and get you…" She trailed off as more laughter rose from the creatures that surrounded her.

"Oh please," pleaded a Mouse who was holding his aching sides, "tell us more stories about the constellations. It's been such a long time since we've had such merry tales in Narnia."

"Perhaps I will," she agreed, "but I want to hear stories from you, too. Stories of Narnia."

By the time the strategy meeting had convened, she had drawn several of her companions into the story-telling as the Narnians shared stories of courage, honor, embarrassment, mistakes, and discovery about themselves and their era. Arrani laughed and cried in turn as she learned more about what these beloved children of Aslan had suffered in the last few centuries at the hands of the Telmarines.

When she was at last approached by Caspian, Lucy, and the others, she hastily dried her tears and fondly scratched behind the ears of the Cat sitting beside her, smiling down at him in gratitude for his story about saving his wife and children from enslavement as Telmarine pets.

Peter surveyed the glistening eyes and suppressed sniffles with a slightly puzzled expression. "What's all this?" he asked.

Arrani spoke for them. "We were sharing stories about Narnia, Your Majesty."

"You know stories about Narnia?" Caspian asked suddenly, appearing intrigued and, she thought, a little more kindly-disposed toward her.

Smiling a little bashfully, she replied, "I know stories about the Narnian _sky_, Your Highness. _They_ were telling me about the land and its history."

"Ed and I need to check up on the weapons stores," Peter interrupted before Caspian could pursue the conversation further, "Su, Lu, maybe you two should get in some practice." He eyed Caspian with a mixture of challenge and concern. "We have a big battle coming up."

Caspian squared his shoulders. "We will be ready." He turned to Arrani and offered a quick bow before following Peter and the others away to the military quarters of the How.

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Arrani had gone to the armory. The centaurs and minotaurs who were supervising the distribution of weapons had allowed her to look over the array of various weapons. Some were of Narnian-make; others had recently been lifted from Telmarine camps by Reepicheep the Mouse and his companions. She was currently caressing a pair of blades about two feet in length with curiously wide hilts that ended in four-inch spurs running parallel to the blades. They were remarkably dainty-looking, almost feminine weapons. "Do you like them?" a shaggy gray Minotaur asked her, noticing her interest.

"They're lovely," she replied, "My father taught me a little with something like these when I was a little girl."

"Why would he teach a little she-calf to fight?" the Minotaur asked, clearly puzzled.

She hemmed and hawed a little. "It's kind of hard to explain. My father is very… um… very old. He wanted to make sure that I could protect him in case enemies ever came to our island."

"And you've left him alone now." The statement wasn't a question. Perhaps a mild accusation.

"Oh, he's fine now," she hastily assured him. When he still looked skeptical, she struggled to make herself more clear. "Stars age in reverse – that is, they do when they're… well, _dead_ isn't quite the right term. When they're in the sky they age like everything else but when they go out they come to earth and age backwards and…" she trailed off as the Minotaur continued to look more and more perplexed with every word she uttered. Laughing weakly she said, "I'm not making this any clearer, am I?"

He chuckled kindly. "Not very. I think I might understand though."

"I guess I should have just said that he's in much better shape now than he was when I was younger. That's why I never actually had to _use_ these. By the time any visitors came to our island, he was well enough to look after himself and the visitors weren't dangerous anyway."

He nodded. "Well, you have an eye for lovely things, young one. They are Telmarine-made. Women's weapons from an earlier era when the Telmarines still lived in Telmar. The women carried these to protect themselves." He eyed her curiously. "Where did your father come by such items as these?"

"Not many travelers come by our island, but there were more when my father was… actually _older_, before he met my mother. He said one of them offered him several kinds of weapons in exchange for hospitality." She shrugged. "After that, he taught my mother, and then me." Carefully, she picked the blades up, one in each hand, and gave them an experimental twirl. Their weight was perfect. "May I keep them?"

He nodded. "If you know how to use them, you may have them. We need every fighter we can get – even a tender little she-calf like you," he added, chuckling as his bright black eyes skimmed over her.

"Well I don't know about being a fighter, but thank you," she replied, taking the belt and scabbards that accompanied the blades and strapping them carefully around her waist. Just before she left, she turned back to the Minotaur. "You remind me of him," she said, pausing a moment before adding, "My father. Maybe that's why I found it so easy to talk to you."

He appeared touched by the sentiment. "I'm sure he misses you, wherever he is."

She nodded thoughtfully and, with a small wave goodbye, started to return to the room that had been provided for her to sleep in. Coming around a sharp corner, she nearly collided with Prince Caspian, who was apparently on his way to the armory.

"Arrani!" he said in surprise, his eyes traveling over her newly acquired weapons. Raising an eyebrow, he asked, "Do you know how to use those?"

Allowing herself a demure smile, she replied, "Would Your Highness care to learn?"

As she directed her feet to a room that was spacious enough for their purposes, she sensed him falling into step a few paces behind her. "Just a demonstration," he said as she turned to face him again, "it's against my principles to fight a lady."

Pleased by his chivalry, she glanced nervously down at her hands, only to see them glowing faintly. Hastily, she clasped them behind her back, hoping Caspian hadn't noticed. He made no sign that he had. "Alright," she began, drawing her blades, "take a forward swing at me; we'll do this slowly so I can show you how it works."

He complied, drawing a graceful, controlled, downward arc with his sword. As the much-longer blade swung toward her, she brought up her own blades, crossed just above the hilt-spurs, so that Caspian's sword cradled in the crook between them. "First, you catch your opponent's blade like this," she said, "The spurs help hold onto the other blade and keep it from slicing me to pieces while I use my second blade to enter my enemy's range and finish him off." In a smooth, slow gesture, she withdrew the right-hand blade so that the sword slid against the hilt, between the blade and the spur. With a quick, outward thrust, she pushed the sword tip away from her and stepped close enough to rest the right-hand blade against Caspian's throat.

"Impressive," he said, still aware that she hadn't removed the blade.

She shrugged, withdrawing a step or two so that they were no longer standing quite so close to each other. "It's no match for a trained swordsman, but the trick allows me to get past the blade of your average footman. If you had actually been fighting me, you would have stopped me before I could even get that close to you."

"But I let you," he replied, a twinkle in his eyes.

She blinked, pondering any possible double meanings. "Because I wanted you to," she replied. Then hastily she added, "That was the whole point of the exercise; so you could see that I know how to fight –" she paused, thinking about how little experience she actually had. "Kind of," she finally added, feeling slightly embarrassed.

He grinned disconcertingly and laughed. "It'll do."

Allowing a self-deprecating laugh as well, she said, "Like I said, it will probably only work with a rusty or untrained swordsman; and then only if I catch him off-guard."

He surveyed her intently. Just as she began to squirm a little under his gaze, he said, "If you can pull that move off fast enough, you might do well in a large-scale battle, especially with some additional training. I doubt your opponent would be focused enough to react to it, especially since you're so…um… feminine-looking," he finished awkwardly.

Unexpectedly flattered by the odd compliment, Arrani grinned. "Thanks."

Caspian seemed to be casting around for a change of subject. "So, um… you glow?" he asked.

Immediately Arrani felt the smile slide from her face. He _had_ to pick _that_ topic. "A trait from my father," she muttered, unconsciously tucking her hands firmly under her arms. "For some odd reason, it's only my hands. And never bright enough to actually be useful." She glowered slightly. "Just enough to make things awkward and hard to explain."

"It validated your claim and helped us to trust you," Caspian pointed out reasonably.

She scoffed slightly, but he _did_ have a point. "You trust me?" she asked suddenly as the second part of his comment dawned on her.

He appeared thoughtful. "Yes, I suppose I do," he answered. Turning to go, he walked several steps away before pausing to look back at her. "Perhaps I will talk with Peter about allowing you to join us. We could use an extra pair of hands."

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**Yay! I'm back. Sorry it took awhile. I got a little stuck on Arrani's development as a character, but I think I've finally worked her into the person I want her to be. And my apologies for the kind of slow start-off. I'm tired of the main characters just automatically accepting and being all chummy with a new character right off the bat, so I gave this one a slower start. Don't worry, Mercury, Arrani will get plenty of involvement time. Thank you for mentioning that, by the way. It helps keep me on track with what I really want to accomplish. I hope this chapter is satisfactory -- if a little choppy -- before we set off on the main events. **

**Cheerio!**

**Elena**


	5. The Night Before

**Chapter Five: The Night Before**

"It's cold," Lucy murmured from the darkness as Arrani entered the room she was now sharing with Susan and Lucy, massaging aching muscles. It was the night before the assault on Miraz's castle and the lean little faun who had been training her intensively for the last couple of weeks had been especially challenging during that morning's workout, leaving her a few nasty bruises to remind her what might happen if she made such mistakes in an actual battle. As she changed into a dressing gown to sleep in, she thought longingly of the bed and blankets awaiting her. Lying down would feel so good, even if she was sure she wouldn't get a wink of sleep before it was dark enough to leave for the attack.

Carefully, she lifted the blankets covering Lucy and crawled in with her, draping her arm over the smaller girl. "Is that better?" she asked.

As she snuggled closer, Lucy's shivers came less frequently and she said at last, "I quite forgot how warm you are."

Arrani only smiled, pressing her lips against the top of the young queen's head. "Sleep now, Lucy."

But Lucy wasn't quite ready to sleep just yet. "Arrani?"

"Mm?"

Lucy toyed thoughtfully with the folds of the blanket close to Arrani's hand. "If you're the daughter of a star, why did you want to come to Narnia?"

On Lucy's other side, Susan stirred and Arrani knew that she was listening as well. Sighing, she answered, "I'm not much of a star, if you haven't noticed –"

"But I think you make a lovely star," Lucy objected.

Arrani chuckled and squeezed the younger girl affectionately. "You can't have met many stars then," she replied. When Lucy made a sound of concurrence, she fell silent, hoping the two queens would just let it slide. If only she was so fortunate.

"So?" Susan asked after a few minutes of silence, "You never answered Lucy's question."

"I don't know," Arrani murmured, her voice dropping almost to a whisper. She could feel her cheeks burning; talking about her reasons for leaving her homeland wasn't an entirely comfortable conversation to have, even with herself. "I just thought maybe I could make a better human than a star."

Lucy stirred as she contemplated this answer. "Why not be both?" she asked.

Arrani opened her mouth to answer before realizing that she didn't have an answer to give. It was a reasonable solution, but somehow the practical applicability of the notion seemed hopelessly beyond her reach. "I'm too frail and mortal to be a star – even a part star," she said at last.

"But you _are_ part star," Lucy pointed out bluntly, "Wouldn't it make sense to just be yourself?"

"Lucy," Susan reprimanded gently, and Arrani was grateful for her interference. Lucy's questions had unsettled her. There was something about that childlike clarity that seemed to drive straight to the heart of the matter. But that was ridiculous. She _was_ being herself: a human with warm skin and a bizarre tendency to glow at odd times.

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Despite her certainty that she wouldn't be able to sleep at all, Arrani dozed off a few minutes after the conversation had ended and was awakened from her not-so-restful dreams by the sudden flood of light in the room. Edmund had walked in, carrying a torch that cast flickering shadows on the walls. "Peter says it's time," he told them.

"Leave your torch, Ed," Susan asked him gently as she sat up and pushed back the covers, "We'll be along in a minute."

The skin around his dark eyes crinkled in an expression that clearly said, _It'll be more than a minute: you're girls_, but he left the torch and left them in peace.

Susan and Arrani hurriedly dressed in lightweight gowns and pulled on leather jerkins and chain mail that had been provided specifically for them – not too heavy and flexible enough for them to move easily. As a final touch, they both bound back their hair and hurried to meet the others, Lucy close on their heels. Just before they entered the main hall, the smaller girl slipped each of her hands into Susan's and Arrani's, clearly seeking comfort from their touch. It was a gesture of vulnerability that surprised and touched Arrani, who had not yet seen Lucy show any less maturity and resilience than her older siblings.

Peter turned toward them as they entered, finishing strapping on his sword as he did so. His startlingly blue eyes traveled over each of them in turn. "Are you ready?" he asked.

Both Susan and Arrani nodded, but Lucy broke away and rushed to hug her oldest brother. "I'm scared for you, Pete," she mumbled into his shirt.

"Oh, Lu," he replied tenderly. "We'll be alright, you'll see. We'll be back before you even miss us, and better yet, the war will be won and Narnia will be free."

Arrani's attention was diverted from the tender moment by the entrance of Edmund, Caspian, Nikabrik and Trumpkin. Edmund sent her a half-smile before joining his siblings in saying farewell to Lucy, Nikabrik shot her a dark glance, and Trumpkin glanced only briefly at her. Caspian's eyes met hers and he smiled ever so slightly as he approached her, a pair of brown leather gloves clasped in his hands. "As you requested," he said, handing them to her.

"Thank you," she replied, hastily pulling them over her hands, which had started to glow again.

Caspian noticed this, apparently picking up on the correlation between the gloves and the glowing. "Can't you control it?"

Blushing, she said curtly, "Unfortunately, no."

"Then what triggers…" he trailed off as she glared slightly at him. "I'm sorry," he apologized contritely. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Of course, such a concession on his part made her feel guilty for holding out on him and she sighed, mentally bemoaning her susceptibility to apologies, especially apologies accompanied by a pair of lovely dark eyes. "It's somehow connected to my emotional control," she said, feeling the heat burning in her cheeks as she admitted to the weakness in her emotional makeup. "Usually when I feel fear." She shrugged. "Since I'm probably going to be scared stiff the whole time, I figure the gloves will hide the light from attracting any unwanted attention from the other side."

His expression softened understandingly. "Maybe we should leave you here if you're afraid," he offered.

She snorted gracelessly. "And this is why I don't tell people things," she grumbled, "No thank you. I'm still coming."

Caspian chuckled softly. "Very well."

"Alright!" Peter said loudly, drawing the attention of everyone present. He had concluded his goodbyes to his youngest sister and now faced the assembled Narnians. "You all remember your orders. Ed will fly in and signal if the coast is clear. Caspian, Susan, Arrani, Trumpkin, and I will fly in to join him. Reepicheep and his fellow mice will infiltrate the gatehouse and let Trumpkin and Arrani inside. They will lower the drawbridge while Caspian raises the gate. Su and I will handle Miraz." He turned to Nikabrik and the Centaur Glenstorm. "When Ed gives you the signal, storm the castle and we'll seize control of the Telmarines. Are we clear?" he shouted to the crowd as a whole.

The hall erupted in a rousing cry and Arrani raised her voice with the others: "FOR NARNIA!"

As they began to move out, Arrani fell into step with Susan. "Are you afraid?" she asked the younger girl.

Susan pursed her lips. "I'd be a fool not to be."

"I'm glad I'm not the only one," Arrani confided, and Susan smiled companionably. It felt good to have a friend, especially right before a major battle.

She was so preoccupied thinking about it that she jumped when a hand suddenly gripped her elbow, holding her back as Susan moved on ahead of her. She turned to find herself face to face with Peter. "I'm allowing you and Susan to come on this mission because we need you, but that doesn't mean I'm allowing you to take unnecessary risks. Stay with Trumpkin at all times, understood?"

Nodding, she said, "Yes, Your Majesty."

The sternness in his countenance softened a little. "Call me Peter."

She grinned. "As you wish."

The barest of smiles crossed his face before he released her arm and turned away. Arrani regarded his back with bemusement as he caught up to Susan and pulled her aside, presumably to tell her the same thing. She supposed that the High King could be personable and charming and very, _very_ appealing to women if he wanted to be, but so far, she'd only seen him in his most businesslike persona. The same held true for the others as well: Edmund rarely broke into a genuine smile and even Lucy was sober and responsible most of the time. Apart from a few shared moments like the one that had just passed, Susan was as stern and determined as her brothers and Caspian… Caspian was a tangle of conflicting interests. She was certain he'd go prematurely gray if he continued to worry so much, while at the same time, he picked the most inexplicable moments to smile or laugh, though those moments never lasted long. Apart from that first day that she'd been in the How and laughed so merrily telling stories with the Narnians, Arrani was positive she hadn't heard a genuine outburst of laughter for several weeks. She found herself praying that the raid tonight would go as planned so that perhaps, sooner rather than later, she might see her newfound friends really smile and have a few chances to really smile herself.

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**I know, I know, there's still no real action yet! It's frustrating to me too, especially since I have the castle scene written in a notebook and I have to sit down now and transfer it to the computer. I wish I could just go "bippity boppity boo" and it would magically appear on the computer, ready for me to edit and fine tune. Oh, who am I kidding, I love fine-tuning as I transcribe things from print to computer. So much for that. Anyway, thanks much for the reviews on the last chapters. (Mercury, I'm glad you approve, and many, _many_ thanks to you again) Please review some more to keep me on my toes! More coming soon!**

**Elena**


	6. Coup d etat

_Whee! Super duper long chapter! Probably the longest I've ever written. Enjoy! _

_And I echo what Mercury Gray said on her RD story: If you have me or this story on your alert list, please, please, PLEASE leave a review. I'd like to know WHY it's there and what you like/dislike about my story/my work. So if you could do that for me, that'd be great, thanks. As always, I write to please you._

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**Chapter Six: Coup d'etat **

The wind rushed in Arrani's ears as the gryphons carried her and her companions soundlessly through the air towards the blinking light that was Edmund's signal. They gently dropped her and Trumpkin onto the ramparts several meters from the gatehouse and swooped off silently into the night while the gryphons carrying Peter, Susan and Caspian glided on to other places on the castle fortifications. Together, she and Trumpkin carefully crept along the ramparts toward the gatehouse, stopping behind a jutting watchtower that afforded them their last shelter from the watchful eyes of the gatehouse guards. She appreciated the Dwarf's gruff acceptance of her presence. For all his grumbling and apparent objections to her assignment with him, he issued the order for her to flank his attack on the guards in a tone that said he regarded her as his equal – for the time being, at least.

Moving remarkably fast for such a small figure, he bolted out of hiding and charged head on toward the guards, taking a vicious swipe at one of them while Arrani dashed in close behind him and launched herself at the second guard. The sudden assault had completely disoriented the guards and the one facing Arrani swung wildly with his spear, allowing her to duck within his range. Slashing out violently with one of her long knives, she caught him directly across the throat and he fell at her feet, his wide eyes still open and staring. Stunned and horrified, she found herself staring back, her mind reeling at the suddenness of the man's death. _He had a family, a wife. Maybe a little home that he couldn't afford_, she thought numbly. The numbness crept up her neck and across her head, blackness beginning to obscure her vision. Her stomach was threatening to churn its way up her throat and out her mouth and her body was trembling so hard that she was surprised that she was still standing. A gentle touch on her wrist pulled her attention away from the dead man and she saw Trumpkin gazing up at her with concern.

"Haven't you ever killed a man before?" he asked.

Arrani shook her head mutely, still fighting the upheaval in her stomach.

"Gulls and gall bladders!" the Dwarf exclaimed, "What was Peter thinking? Look, lass," he said more gently, "we still have a job to do. Can you focus on it?"

Forcing herself to draw a deep, shuddering breath, she replied, "Yes."

He nodded briskly. "Good, that's good. Just block it out. Don't think, don't feel, just act, okay? Remember the cause you're fighting for. You see that man there?" he asked, pointing at the guard at her feet, "He made a choice tonight. He could have run. We would not have gone after him. He chose to fight and he lost – fortunately for you – and that's the end of it, okay?"

She nodded again, feeling her shock begin to subside and her emotions beginning to settle.

"Just remember that: every man you fight has chosen to fight you when he could have chosen to go somewhere else instead, got it?"

The Dwarf's gravelly voice was having a remarkably calming effect on Arrani's nerves and she had very nearly regained complete control of herself. "I get it," she said at last. "Let's go; I'm fine."

He regarded her carefully for another moment before moving forward, raising a hand to knock two short times on the gatehouse door.

"Trumpkin?"

"Yes?" he asked, glancing back at her over his shoulder.

"You'd better not say _a word_ of this to Peter or Caspian, because if I do, I'll…"

She trailed off as the Dwarf started laughing. "I'm glad you're back, miss," he said, "Now come on."

With impeccable timing, just as she stepped to his side in front of the door, the latch on it lifted from the inside and swung inward as three Mice dropped back to the floor. As Trumpkin entered the room, brandishing his sword, the Mouse Reepicheep swept a deep bow and surveyed the Dwarf with twinkling black eyes. "That's it?" he asked, winking at Arrani, "We were expecting someone a bit, well, bigger."

"You should talk," the Dwarf said gruffly, but Arrani thought she caught the tiniest hint of a smile in his voice.

The Mouse bowed gallantly. "I was being ironic."

Arrani entered the room and beheld the large wooden wheel in the center of the room. "Is that it?" she asked faintly, sizing up the breadth and weight with mild concern.

"Did you expect any less?" Trumpkin pointed out.

"Very funny," she retorted, squaring her shoulders and stepping up to one of the spokes. "Well," she said, regarding it sternly, "the sooner we get the drawbridge lowered, the sooner our people can get in." With that, she gripped the spoke firmly in her gloved hands and braced herself to push.

Trumpkin regarded her with a little more respect in his eyes and put his shoulder to a spoke across the wheel from her. Together, they threw their weights against it and began to turn it slowly, feeling through the wood the vast weight of the drawbridge and chains that they were moving. Even Reepicheep and his companions helped by pushing against the series of small spikes around the base of the wheel.

Several minutes later, she caught the distant sound of alarm bells ringing. The castle had been alerted at last. Several shouts echoed in the night beyond the gatehouse window, followed by a brief clang of swords. It took a great deal of effort to refrain from jumping to the windows to see what was occurring below, but Arrani channeled the energy into her final efforts to lower the drawbridge and was rewarded by the distant thud of wood on stone. By now, she could recognize Peter's shouts over the pounding of running footsteps. Rushing out onto the ramparts and looking down, she saw Peter, Susan and Caspian combining their efforts to raise the portcullis. From her position, she could hear their frantic dialogue:

"We can get out now before it's too late!" Caspian exclaimed, "We don't have enough time now that Miraz knows!"

"No!" Peter responded vehemently, "There's still time to get them in. If you hadn't left your post, the gate could've been open by now!"

"Where is Edmund's signal!" Susan's voice cried out above the voices of both Caspian and Peter.

In unison, all three – and Arrani – looked to the North Tower where Edmund was supposed to be signaling the rest of the Narnian forces to join them. Flashes of movement could be seen through the stone buttresses. A guard had discovered him! Preoccupied as he was, he couldn't send the signal they needed so badly.

"Arrani!" Caspian was staring desperately up at her. "Can you…?"

"I can't!" she cried, ripping off her gloves even as she spoke. Her fear was palpable, but her hands were only glowing dimly in the dark – enough to be seen from a few yards away, but no further. "I told you!" she cried again, angry tears of frustration burning at the corners of her eyes as she tugged her gloves back on. "What's the point of being part star if I can't even use it to help anybody!" she muttered furiously through clenched teeth, "It only leaves me disappointing everyone!"

"Look!" Trumpkin shouted, tugging on Arrani's chain-mail sleeve and pointing toward the North Tower.

A beam of bright light was shining out across the ramparts, blinking methodically to predetermined patterns. Edmund had either subdued his opponent or broken free long enough to send the signal.

Looking back, she saw Telmarine soldiers pouring into the courtyard below. Edmund's signal was timely indeed.

"'Ware, lass!" Trumpkin's voice warned her.

He had strung his bow and begun to shoot at several archers across the way who had been looking to pick off the frontrunners of the new Narnian forces now streaming into the courtyard. Arrani paused a few precious seconds to tame her self-criticism and frustration before drawing her blades again, prepared to guard Trumpkin's back. Reepicheep and his Mice dashed past her knees and down the ramparts to join in the fray below. One armored Telmarine rushed at Trumpkin and Arrani darted forward to intercept him. The man blinked in astonishment at the armored young woman in front of him and she used his temporary distraction to knock the point of his sword aside and deal a heavy blow to the bridge of his nose with the hilt of her other blade. The blow produced its desired effect: the Telmarine did not die, but he staggered back, clutching his nose and fell from the ramparts, landing on two of his fellows who had been trying to wedge Caspian into a corner. The prince glanced upward and sent her a brief nod of thanks before rejoining the fray below.

She was still looking down when she heard Trumpkin's warning shout, "Arrani! Get out of the way!"

Looking back over her shoulder, she saw a big burly guardsman barreling down on her. Desperately, she threw herself to one side as she lunged at her, landing hard on her hip and elbow in the process and nearly rolling over the edge. The guardsman tried to skid to a stop and almost succeeded just as a black arrow seemingly sprouted from his neck. Still carried by the momentum of his own weight, he tumbled over the edge, his fingers scraping frantically at the leather folds of Arrani's skirt while she fought to hold on. Trumpkin's small, sturdy hands suddenly grasped her wrist, pulling her back away from the ledge as she lifted her legs back to the relative safety of the rampart.

"Thank you!" she gasped, rolling onto her back.

Mingled relief and exasperation glittered in the Dwarf's eyes. "Keep your focus next time, and don't worry about anyone else but yourself when you're in the middle of a battle," he advised roughly before loading another arrow and sighting down into the mass of Telmarines and Narnians below.

Arrani longed for more time to recover, but the warning sound of metal-clad feet on stone alerted her to still more danger. Rolling to her feet and retrieving her long knives, she straightened just as two more guards charged forward, doubtlessly attempting to put a stop to the deadly barrage of arrows Trumpkin was showering down on their men. Two was one too many for Arrani's limited fighting ability. "Trumpkin!" she cried as one guard rammed his sword into the ramparts as she dove out of the way. He recovered swiftly and delivered a kick that caught just below her ribcage on her left side. It completely knocked the wind out of her and she barely had the presence of mind to roll out of the way of his retaliatory jab, almost to the edge of the ramparts again. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Trumpkin throw down his bow, draw his sword, and charge at the second soldier. She tried to roll away from the edge, but the Telmarine's sword was waiting for her, stabbing down viciously as she tried to raise her knives to counter the attack. She got them up in time to deflect the blow, but the force of his attack rattled both blades right out of her hands. She watched helplessly as one skittered across the stones and over the edge and the other clattered to the ground just a few inches out of reach.

She was still flat on her back as the Telmarine recovered for the final stroke that would end her life, but she kicked out hard with her feet, buckling his knees backward. As he lurched in pain, she rolled onto her stomach, grabbed the remaining knife, and rolled back, slashing across the man's cheek as she did so. He doubled over again, instinctively clutching at his face. Arrani used the time to get to her feet and ram her shoulder into his chest, sending him falling over the edge into the chaos below.

This time, there was nothing to distract her thoughts from the view spread out below her. The Telmarines outnumbered the Narnians at least two to one and, even as she watched, still more of them were filing out onto the opposite ramparts, each armed with a loaded crossbow and a quiver of arrows. Things were going ill for Narnia indeed. Peter was entangled in a knot of soldiers as he tried to fight his way up the stairs to a balcony on which a single, unarmed man stood. He could only be Miraz, Caspian's usurper uncle. Susan was holding up remarkably well for being more heavily engaged in the battle than Arrani was, using her arrows to jab and skewer as often as she shot them. Caspian was perhaps a dozen paces away from the wall on which Arrani stood, fighting off three Telmarines at once.

From her position, Arrani could plainly perceive that there were simply too many Telmarines. This battle was already lost. All that remained was for Peter to call the retreat and save as many as they could.

"Well," came Trumpkin's voice from beside her elbow. She looked down to see him leaning on his bow and grimly surveying the carnage below them. "I'm all out of arrows."

Fairly sure she knew what he was thinking, she said, "My other knife is down there."

"Caspian's in trouble."

"So is Susan," she agreed.

His eyes met hers for the briefest moment and in them she glimpsed the true camaraderie that only exists between two people about to do something truly crazy. "Nothing for it then," he said, shouldering his bow and drawing his sword.

"Nothing for it then," she repeated softly. "It's been a privilege, Trumpkin."

"Likewise, Arrani," he said gruffly. "Shall we?"

She nodded. In unison, the raised their weapons. "FOR NARNIA!" they cried and vaulted as one from the ramparts, free falling toward those below. Arrani's fall was conveniently broken by the Telmarine soldier who had been unfortunate enough to be standing directly below her. Rolling off of his now-unconscious form, she got to her feet and, seeing Caspian and his opponents close by, charged into them, barreling into one man who had his back to her. He lurched forward, sword flailing and nearly slicing into Caspian's thigh -- the wild swing had caught him off-guard. He sent her a mildly reproachful look as his sword cut into one of the men still attacking him. She tumbled off the back of the man she'd jumped on as Caspian's sword flashed over her head to slay him before he could recover. Still moving with grace and skill that far surpassed her own, he spun around and dispatched his third attacker and turned back to help her to her feet.

Before he could say anything, she gripped his shoulder urgently. "You have to get everyone out of here! Call off the attack!"

He didn't seem inclined to question her, but he said, "I can't. Peter…"

"You're the prince, aren't you? They'll listen to you!"

"This is Peter's command! I can't call it off without him!" Caspian objected, though he looked as though he dearly wanted to.

Just as she was about to respond, a completely new sound reached her ears: the dull ringing of something metal on a much heavier thing of metal. Turning, she saw a Telmarine hacking at the chains and weights that held the portcullis open. A quick glance around confirmed that the other Narnians had heard it too.

A gray shaggy beast suddenly lumbered past, stopping only to press a familiar blade into Arrani's hand. It was the kindly old Minotaur she had met and talked to in the armory. "You dropped this," he said as he returned her lost blade to her, his big, black eyes soft and resigned. Before she could so much as thank him, he barreled through several Telmarines and reached the gate just as the soldier's axe finally broke the chain links that held the dumbwaiter. As the gate came crashing down, the big Minotaur ducked under it and caught it heavily on his broad shoulders, groaning as he held it open.

Finally, over the cries of the Narnians and roars of the Telmarines, she could hear Peter calling for a retreat. "FALL BACK! FALL BACK! Glenstorm! Get Susan out of here!" Above the seething mass of bodies in the courtyard, Arrani could suddenly see Susan lifted up onto Glenstorm's back as he joined the other Narnians streaming past the Minotaur and under the portcullis. Suddenly she was also aware that she no longer felt Caspian's hand on her arm. Looking around, she couldn't see him anywhere.

Peter's eyes fell on her through the swarming Telmarines. "Arrani! Get out, now!" he shouted as he fought off one of the soldiers between her and him.

Unfortunately, her fighting on the ramparts and consequent fighting on the ground had placed her frighteningly far from the side of the courtyard on which she had started. And there were plenty of Telmarine warriors between her and the gate. Even now, the archers above were raining arrows heavily on her Minotaur friend at the portcullis and he had begun to shudder under the gate's weight. She could never make it.

Peter cut through several soldiers to come to her side, his eyes flashing defiantly. "I'm not leaving a lady to be slaughtered by the enemy!" he said, taking her elbow. "We're getting you out of here."

Together they fought through the tangle of Telmarines between them and the gate. Peter lashed out first with his longer sword and superior skills, while Arrani nipped in with her long knives, finishing off those not stopped or deterred, her mind nearly numb to the bloodshed. They had cut the distance from the gate nearly in half when they heard a clattering of hooves. Spinning around, Peter instinctively pushed Arrani behind him, but it was Caspian, leading two other horses, one of which already bore a rider: a portly, bearded old man.

"Peter!" Caspian called, releasing the riderless horse toward the High King.

Unfortunately, to catch the horse, Peter was forced to let go of Arrani's arm and run and jump onto the still-moving animal, leaving her behind. She compensated by continuing her flight toward the gate. Peter reined in the horse to come back for her, but was deterred as several Telmarines attempted to pull him from his newly-acquired mount. Caspian and the man were still behind her somewhere. She had almost reached the Minotaur when a heavy weight plowed into her from behind and knocked her to the ground. Stabbing over her shoulder blindly, she wriggled against the hands that were trying to pin her down and felt one of her blades sink into flesh. The soldier cried out and dealt her a dizzying smack to the side of her head and she felt the cold steel of a dagger come to rest against the back of her neck.

Hooves clattered up beside her and the man restraining her shrieked and rolled off as she heard the swish of a sword somewhere over her head. Rolling painfully onto her side, she looked up and saw Caspian reaching toward her.

Despite the urgency of the moment, or perhaps because she was still a little dizzy from being smacked, she returned her gaze to the gentle Minotaur she had met only a few weeks ago and watched as yet another arrow joined those already protruding from his shoulders and legs. "Can we save him?" she heard herself ask through the haze in her mind.

The beast heard her and smiled sadly. "Save yourself, little calf," he said, and with a huge burst of effort, he straightened and lifted the portcullis as high as he could, letting out a bone-rattling roar as he did so.

"Arrani, come _on_!" Caspian shouted, his hand still extended toward her as his horse pranced nervously.

Miraz was shrieking and screaming obscenities at his men, calling for them to stop the escaping Narnians as Arrani hoisted herself to her feet and clasped Caspian's outstretched hand. Arrows rained down all around them as he pulled her onto the horse behind him and kicked it into a run. With Peter and the other rider, who had both broken free at last, they breezed under the portcullis just as the Minotaur let out a final terrific roar and collapsed. The full weight of the portcullis crashed down on top of him, crushing him instantly. Several more Narnians were still trapped inside and Arrani heard their cries with a breaking heart. She thought achingly of her friend, the Minotaur, and those poor Narnians, trapped under the ruthless barrage of arrows and swords. Burying her face in Caspian's back, she held on to his waist and allowed her tears to stream freely down her cheeks as they continued their flight into the night.

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**Whew! Insanity! Was it okay for an action scene? I struggle with those sometimes and I'm hoping that what I saw in my mind translated well into writing. My personal favorite "scene" was the exchange between Trumpkin and Arrani right before they jumped off the wall. For some reason that segment just played out exactly as I pictured it in my mind and translated almost perfectly, too. Let me know what you think! More coming soon!**

**And a quick side note. Peter is NOT in love with Arrani, nor will there be any Peter/Arrani/Caspian love triangle. That's ridiculously Sueish. He was just being noble and heroic. As he should be. So never fear, my dear readers, I wouldn't dream of doing something so obviously Sueish. This is the first and last major interaction between Arrani and Peter that could possibly denote anything more than friendship.**

**Elena**


	7. Betrayal

**Sorry about the long wait. I got sidetracked with life and work and things like that. Please review!

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Chapter Seven: Betrayal

The first rays of the dawn were glimmering in the eastern sky as the exhausted and bedraggled survivors of the castle raid trickled across the field toward the How. Susan and Arrani were walking side by side a few paces behind Edmund, Peter and Caspian, drawing strength from each other the way only two young women can. They saw Lucy run out of How to meet them, her gentle face bright with worry. Her eyes seemed to take in their severely depleted numbers and disheartened features in an instant.

"What happened?" she asked Peter as he approached her.

"Ask _him_," he replied stonily, tossing his head at Caspian.

The dark-haired Telmarine pulled up short. "Me? I was the one who said we should call off the attack."

Arrani touched Susan's arm warningly and the younger girl looked up, ready to intervene if things got nasty, which seemed more than likely.

Peter scoffed. "Well if you'd been at your post instead of trying to play vigilante, we could have gotten our forces in sooner!"

Caspian's eyes flashed dangerously. "I'm not the one who waited until the last possible second to call off the attack," he said coldly.

Infuriated now, Peter stomped up nose-to-nose with Caspian. "If I remember correctly, _you_ called us for help!"

The Telmarine prince didn't flinch. "My first mistake."

"No," Peter retorted nastily, "Your first was thinking that you could actually lead these people."

Faster than a snake, Caspian had his sword out of its sheath and resting against Peter's throat, but the High King was only a fraction of a heartbeat behind him and before Arrani, Susan or Edmund knew what was happening, his sword was resting identically against Caspian's.

"Wait!" Susan snapped, jumping forward to intervene. She stepped in front of Peter, blocking his view of Caspian while Arrani took a few steps forward and put a hand on the flat of Caspian's blade, pushing it down and away from Peter. When it appeared that Caspian might step aside and raise his sword again, she put her other hand on his arm, hoping it would be enough to restrain him while they attempted to cool both tempers to a manageable level.

"Peter," Lucy said, putting a hand on her oldest brother's wrist, "this isn't the answer."

Several tense seconds passed before Peter re-sheathed his sword. "Fine," he said with a sneer in Caspian's direction.

The other young man curled his lip in disgust as he shrugged away from Arrani's hand and moved toward the How, Nikabrik at his side. The little Black Dwarf wore a look of deep satisfaction that sent shivers crawling up Arrani's spine. He smirked once more at the Pevensies before following Caspian inside.

She watched them go for a moment before a small commotion diverted her attention back to those still behind her. Turning, she saw several Narnians parting to make way for a stretcher bearing a battered and unconscious Trumpkin. Instantly the Pevensies rushed to his side. Arrani followed close behind, unsure if she could handle any more death this day, especially of another who had become her friend. The Red Dwarf was normally gruff, blunt, and more than a little grouchy, but he had coached her through her first real battle and, in those brief minutes on the ramparts, he had become her friend. She knelt down beside him and clasped one of his hands.

"Lu, your potion," Susan whispered.

Arrani watched with fascination as Lucy withdrew a diamond vial containing bright red liquid from a small pouch at her side and carefully allowed one single drop to fall into Trumpkin's mouth. To her disbelief, the Dwarf suddenly took a shuddering breath and opened his eyes. He looked slightly puzzled as he took in the faces gathered around him, but he smiled slightly as his eyes came to rest on Arrani. "You got out, did you?" he rasped, "Probably just got lucky."

She allowed herself a small laugh, understanding his meaning. Lucy smiled warmly. "Oh, D.L.F." she murmured fondly.

He looked sharply at her. "I though we agreed on _not_ patronizing me," he grumbled, but Arrani thought he looked pleased.

Edmund and Susan also expressed their relief that he was alright and he took each sentiment with good humor. Only Peter still seemed distracted, his eyes flicking anxiously between them and the door to the How. "Something's wrong," he said suddenly, causing the skin at the back of Arrani's neck to prickle.

A kind of sinister aura seemed to be emanating from the How's entrance and many of the Talking Beasts lingering nearby seemed to be more nervous than usual. Peter rose and drew his sword and began walking toward the How. Edmund followed suit while the girls helped Trumpkin to his feet and followed a few paces behind, their hands resting warily on bows or dagger-hilts.

"Where did Caspian go?" Peter asked the first Narnian they met inside the How.

"I don't know," the Faun replied with faint agitation, "he and the Black Dwarf looked like they were in council about something; they probably went to the Stone Table."

The Faun had barely finished his sentence when Edmund and Peter broke into a sprint, tearing along the corridors toward the hall that housed the Stone Table. Arrani, Lucy, Susan and Trumpkin followed apprehensively, feeling a mounting sense of foreboding the closer they got to the Table. Arrani didn't need to glance down at her hands to know that she was more terrified now than she had ever been during the battle.

The final stretch of hallway leading up to the Table was humming with dark energy – the blackest of magics. It was exactly the kind of magic that had buzzed in her ears the night the Three Sleepers had taken up the Stone Knife to fight each other and fallen into a deep, deathlike slumber.

* * *

The scene that spread out before them in the flickering firelight was enough to make Arrani stop short. Nikabrik was rolling around in a kind of catfight with a Badger she knew was named Trufflehunter, while a cloaked and curiously hunched figure stalked threateningly toward Edmund, drawing in deep, rattling breaths that make her blood run cold. Caspian was lying spread-eagled on the floor, pinned down by the long scythe-like blade of a wizened and shriveled but nonetheless nasty-looking old woman. By far the most frightening thing in the room, however, was the one which Peter stood facing: between the two tall pillars that flanked the Stone Table, a sheet of blue-white ice had formed. Suspended in the ice, with one deathly white hand extending beseechingly toward Peter, was the White Witch. Even Arrani knew enough of the old stories to recognize her immediately.

"Peter, dear," the Witch was saying over the muffled groans and hisses and snarls of the others, "Just one drop of your blood and I will be your faithful servant forever. Just. One. Tiny. Drop." Her eyes flicked coldly toward Caspian. No doubt she had made him the same offer. Arrani found herself feeling pleased that he had refused to give in, despite the motivations he surely had.

Whether Peter really _was _tempted, or whether the Witch's words had cast some spell over him, the High King began to lower his sword. Slowly his other hand reached towards the Witch.

"Peter, no!" Lucy cried, dashing forward before either Arrani or Susan could catch her and pull her back out of harm's way.

The Witch flinched as the pure-hearted young girl raced forward, but Nikabrik subdued Trufflehunter and pounced on Lucy before she could even reach the Table.

"Lucy!" Susan screamed as the youngest Queen scrambled to draw her little dagger and fend off Nikabrik. She fitted an arrow to her bow and tried to look for a clear shot, but there were none. Arrani dashed forward, plowing bodily into the little Black Dwarf and falling into an end-over-end tumble with him. She tried not to cry out as Nikabrik's fists – and the stone floor – encountered the various scrapes and bruises she'd amassed in Miraz's castle. When she finally came to a stop, she could see that Lucy had gotten to her feet, but before she could register anything else, a small strong hand clamped down on her throat and she looked back into the glowering face of Nikabrik, feeling his blade resting against her throat.

"I knew you were trouble," he hissed, his rank breath filling her nose and making her choke.

Afraid to move because of the knife, she settled for trying to ply his hand from her throat and glaring scornfully back at him. "Likewise," she sneered. This wasn't strictly true, but the sentiment seemed appropriate, and she _had_ long since carried a grudge for the mean little Dwarf after his harsh treatment of her that first day.

Just as he pulled back to strike, several things happened at once. There was a loud, echoing shriek, accompanied by the sharp crack of shattering ice. Susan and Lucy let out a combined shout that culminated in the unearthly shriek of something brittle and disgusting crashing onto the floor, and Edmund's voice echoed coldly in the room: "I know, you had it sorted," while at the same time, a brownish blur bowled Nikabrik's weight off of Arrani's stomach, followed by the flash of steel and sharp, cut-off cry from the Dwarf.

The cacophony of noises that had prevailed only minutes before suddenly fell silent, leaving Peter standing weakly in front of the remains of the Witch's ice-wall; Edmund turning away from the shattered ice with a stony expression; Susan and Lucy leaning on each other in relief over the crumpled body of the old woman; Trumpkin and Trufflehunter dusting themselves off, and Caspian standing over Arrani, his unsheathed sword in his right hand, blood from his palm trickling down the hilt.

His expression was inscrutable as he reached down and pulled Arrani to her feet. "That's twice today."

She nodded grimly but gratefully. "Thank you," she said, knowing the words were painfully insufficient to cover the extent of his actions on her behalf. Gingerly feeling the now-expanded bruise on her hip, she turned to look at Peter, who was staring sadly and reverently up at the etching of the Lion behind the pillars. Very slowly, his gaze moved from the Lion to the spot just over her shoulder where Caspian was standing. The expressions of both young men were identically sober and resigned. They nodded to each other and Arrani sensed that some form of truce had been reached, because Caspian's expression softened, and he turned away without any sign of malice, walking out of the room without another word.

* * *

_Again, sorry about the long wait! I hope I haven't lost you guys on this! I was wondering how Arrani would even recognize dark magic for quite a while, then it occurred to me: she would have been there when the Three Sleepers fell asleep and since Lucy recognizes the knife in VotDT as the White Witch's, it seemed logical to me that they would feel the same. _

_Again to the people who have me on their favorites list and haven't reviewed, PLEASE REVIEW!_

_Thanks! Elena_


	8. Conversations

**Chapter Eight: Conversations**

Caspian sat on a ledge overlooking the lands in front of the How, his mind caught up in a maelstrom of thoughts and emotions. He almost didn't notice when Arrani joined him, a small case of something tucked under her arm. He glanced at her. She looked better, now that some of the scratches and bruises on her face and neck had evidently been tended to, but he could tell by the way she sat down that she had some extensive bruising on her ribs and hips that probably still needed care.

"I just came from the healers'" she said by way of explanation, "they gave me this and said for me to see about your hand." She withdrew a vial of liquid from the case and he could see that it had a slightly pink tinge to it – it was an unction made from willow-bark and a tiny drop of Lucy's healing potion. Apparently the healers had had some success with Trufflehunter's idea and had sent Arrani to try it out on him, now.

Carefully he opened his right hand, wincing as the gash from Nikabrik's knife spread and split a little.

"Hm," Arrani murmured, her brows creasing as she looked at it.

"What's '_hm_' mean?" he asked as she dampened a cloth with the liquid.

"_Hm_ means that I'm still learning this kind of thing and don't distract me," she replied, reaching for his hand.

He gave it to her and she began gently dabbing at the cut. The touch of her fingers surprised him. "You're warm!" he gasped.

She raised an eyebrow but did not look up from his hand. "I've never heard _that_ one before," she said wryly.

He fell into silence as she continued to clean the cut. The potion _did_ work. While it wasn't as speedy and painless as a direct dosage from Lucy's vial, it helped stop the blood flow and soothed the pain in and around the cut. As she pulled out a long white bandage and began wrapping it around and around his hand, he finally said, "Thank you."

"Consider it my thanks to _you_ for saving my life. Twice," she added in a tone that almost matched the one he'd used at the Table that morning.

He placed his other hand over hers as she tied off the bandage. "The life of any friend, no matter how recent, is worth saving."

Unexpectedly, tears filled her eyes and he was taken aback. He hadn't meant the words to be _that_ sentimental!

"I couldn't save him," she whispered, almost to herself, as she tried to wipe her tears away.

"Who?"

"The Minotaur," she said shakily. "He was my friend. I met him in the armory. If anyone's life was worth saving, it was his." She uttered a self-deprecating laugh. "I'm sorry. You must think me awfully emotional. I've just never… dealt with this kind of thing before."

Suddenly he understood. The raw pain of the assault was still very fresh for all of them. It suddenly occurred to him that Arrani must have had friends among the Narnians as well. He'd taken it for granted that she didn't spend _all_ of her time with him and the Pevensies. "I'm sorry," he said as gently as he could.

She looked up at him in gratitude and he couldn't help but smile inwardly. No matter how lovely she normally was, crying did not suit her well. Her eyes went bloodshot, her nose turned red, and her tears made dark lines down her cheeks – though _that_ might have been the fault of lingering dust from the battle. He looked down at her hands and thought he could see a faint, silvery sheen around them. Her emotions certainly weren't in control right now.

She noticed his gaze and folded them snugly under her arms, glowering slightly in that expression he was beginning to recognize as her embarrassed face.

"I don't think it's something to be ashamed of," he said, shifting to face her.

She sighed, her expression softening. He had noticed that she usually seemed more willing to tell him things than the others. The thought pleased him. "You don't understand how embarrassing it is for people to know just by looking at my hands that I'm essentially an emotional wreck on the inside."

"Some people wear it on their faces," he pointed out. "They don't even need unique traits like glowing hands to advertise their emotions to the world. Besides," he added, nudging her companionably, "I'm the only one you've told, so therefore only _I_ know that you're an emotional wreck when your hands glow. No one else does."

She appeared to consider this for a moment, her mouth quirking in the barest hint of a smile. "That's not entirely comforting, you know," she said ruefully.

"It's better than Peter knowing. He might… stop you from going into battle or something."

"And you won't?" Her eyes were challenging.

His mood blackened just a little bit. "I'm not in a position to do so."

"But you're going to be King, are you not?"

He wished she'd stop looking at him like that. The challenge in her expression made his cheeks burn. "I'm not even sure anymore if I _should_ be King. I have so many… faults." He couldn't believe he was even telling her this. Then again, she had confided quite a bit in _him_, for whatever reason, and it seemed natural to return the favor.

She shrugged this comment off. "Learn to overcome them. That's part of being human."

He digested this notion in silence for a long time. At length, Arrani got to her feet, patting his shoulder. "Well, be good to that hand. I _think_ I did a good job on it and Lucy's potion should help it heal faster, but try not to strain it for a few days." He felt a twinge of regret for not being a better conversationalist, but not enough to bring himself to call her back. Instead, he returned his gaze to the view spread out below him, his thoughts churning in the wake of Arrani's words. He thought about what she'd said about becoming King and overcoming his faults; he thought about the kind of king his father had been and, last of all, how Miraz had ruthlessly murdered his father and why Doctor Cornelius had never said anything about it.

* * *

He was still thinking intently and watching the sun create longer and longer shadows in front of him when he heard Doctor Cornelius come and seat himself heavily on the ledge beside him. "Who was that I saw sitting with you a few minutes ago?" he asked as he made himself comfortable, "She's the one you rescued last night, isn't she?"

Caspian nodded, but his mind was still focused elsewhere. "Why didn't you tell me about my father?" he asked.

In typical fashion, his mentor did not answer the question directly right off. "My mother was a Black Dwarf from the North." Caspian looked at him in surprise. He never would have guessed. "She left me with my father and never came to see me again. It wasn't until I was much, much older that I understood that she had behaved that way in order to protect me. Similarly, all the things I told you – and didn't tell you – were for your own protection. I did not think you were ready."

Irritation prickled inside Caspian. "Would you have thought me ready now?"

"Maybe, maybe not," came the unruffled reply.

"Why?" Caspian could feel his ire start to rise, the same ire that had gone up when Peter had criticized his potential to be king.

"Would it have changed anything?"

"It changes everything!" he replied hotly, "It means that Miraz is a murderer!"

Doctor Cornelius regarded him steadily. "Does it?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but something about his beloved tutor's tone suggested that he was trying to make a point. Caspian settled instead with asking, "What do you mean?"

The old man's eyes twinkled merrily. "Does it?" he asked again.

Caspian sighed. It was the same technique he had used many times when he wanted Caspian to figure things out on his own. It was _always_ frustrating but very nearly always effective. If he had known Miraz killed his father, would it really have changed anything? He'd said that it meant his uncle was a murderer, but wasn't he that already? After all, he'd tried to kill Caspian the very night his son was born. While the attempt hadn't succeeded – _Yet_, Caspian thought darkly to himself – the intent was clear. And even now that he did know, it didn't change the fact that Miraz held all the power and that _he_ was still outcast and leading – well, _sort of _leading – a rag-tag jumble of Old Narnians against Miraz's innumerable forces. He let out a long sigh. "No, it doesn't really change anything. He's still there, I'm still here. I knew he was a murderer anyway. The only thing that has changed is how I feel about it."

"And?"

Caspian took a deep breath. This was the hard part. The deep, dark part of him that he acted on but didn't always want to acknowledge. "I hate him," he said at last, clenching his fists so tightly they turned white. "I've hurt and suffered for so long and now that I know that the pain is his doing, I want him to feel it, too. It was different when I didn't know; all I could do was blame Death itself."

"How does this new emotion make you feel?" Doctor Cornelius asked gently.

"Miserable," Caspian admitted frankly. "The worst of it is, I wonder sometimes if I won't turn out the same. I'm a _Telmarine_. It's in my blood. _Miraz_ is in my blood. I'm not a Narnian and many of them think the same."

Doctor Cornelius raised his eyebrows. "Like who?"

"Nikabrik said that," Caspian replied.

"Yes, and look how he turned out."

"Peter feels that way, I'm sure," he said, thinking of their exchange just before the Witch incident.

"But he still respects you and still tries to put you on the throne. I doubt he would do so if he _truly_ believed you would end up just like your uncle. What about his siblings, the other King and Queens?"

"I… don't know."

"What about Trumpkin and his friend the Badger, do _they_ see you as a Telmarine who will corrupt the throne of Narnia?"

Caspian was beginning to see where his mentor was going with this. "No, they don't. They've stuck with me through everything – since the night I ran away."

"And the girl who was with you just now?"

He thought about the conversation he had just had with Arrani. "No, Arrani wants me to be King."

"What about your captains? The Centaur and the Bulgy Bears and Reepicheep?"

Caspian _definitely_ knew what Cornelius was going to say next. "No, they support me."

Doctor Cornelius looked satisfied. "Now, if the people closest to you don't mind your heritage, why should you allow it to bother _you_? They know you are a Telmarine, but they also recognize that in you beats the heart of a Narnian. Accept that fact and embrace both sides of who you are. Your life will be much simpler and more enjoyable that way."

A rush of affection welled up in Caspian for this gentle-hearted, wise old man. He reached out and put a hand on Doctor Cornelius' shoulder. "You have been my teacher and my mentor for almost as long as I can remember, and I am always grateful for your advice. I will think about what you've said."

Doctor Cornelius appeared greatly touched by this sentiment and patted Caspian's hand fondly. "Thank you, my boy," he said, and they stared out at shadows lengthening across the fields.

* * *

_Hmm, only one review on the last chappie? Sadness... are you guys all annoyed with me, or sick of Arrani? If you are, please let me know. I'll try to fix her up. If that's not the problem, then I'd love to know what is. _

_The conversation between Doctor Cornelius and Caspian was very enjoyable to write and it was refreshing for me to take a break from my OC for a little bit. It helps me to keep my focus on the importance of the canon, which is, of course vital to writing a successful OC. So? How am I doing? Review and feedback are always, always appreciated. Cheers!_

_Elena_


	9. Polishing Things Up

**Chapter Nine: Polishing Things Up**

In an attempt to take her mind off things, Arrani had gone to the armory and asked the smiths if she could help. They promptly set her to work polishing the various pieces of armor that had gotten dusty and scratched in the assault. The polish used to seal the scratches and smooth the metal made her nose itch and her eyes water, but she set to her work with a will, hoping that her distraction would extend to the thousands of thoughts chasing each other around in her head. She didn't want to think about the friends she'd lost in that battle, she didn't want to think about the White Witch, or Peter or Caspian or anyone else. For just a few precious moments, she wanted to think about nothing at all.

The polish took forever to rub into the metal and her forearms began to ache from the constant motion, but eventually, the pieces under her hands became smooth and gleaming once more. Running a finger along the un-etched part of a shield, she absentmindedly thought of her father and wondered what he was doing at that moment. She wondered if he missed her, and she was surprised at how much she missed _him_. He may have been feeble and old, but there was a quiet wisdom about him, the kind that only could be gained from thousands of years of life. Suddenly she found herself missing the quiet peace of her island home, where there was no loss and no death.

A single tear splashed on the shield she was polishing. Hastily she wiped her eyes and rubbed the polish across the spot on the shield to remove the evidence of her tears, but paused and stared at her hands for a moment. They were glowing again, of course, and she took the time to turn them over a few times, looking at the way they seemed more silvery than the rest of her skin.

"You're not going to get those shields done if you keep staring at your hands like that."

She jumped and turned to see Caspian standing behind her, his eyes twinkling. She hadn't even heard him approach! She felt a blush creep up her neck as he pulled a barrel over and seated himself near her. "I didn't see you," she said as he picked up a breastplate and a rag and began to polish.

He shrugged an apology and glanced pointedly at her hands. "How are you feeling?"

Not entirely keen on answering, she focused instead on the shield.

She felt him watch her for a few more seconds, but he turned his attention away at last. They worked in companionable silence for quite some time and her hands had completely stopped glowing before she finally said, "I was… missing my father."

He looked up at her, his eyes full of sympathy, and she was suddenly very glad that he understood how she felt. It meant that she didn't have to explain or try to describe how she felt. He knew it already. The thought was extremely comforting. Perhaps there was something to be said for allowing someone to know your weaknesses, after all.

They were interrupted by a sudden tromp of boots and a quick, "Ahem." Turning, she saw Trumpkin standing there, one hand on his belt, his eyes twinkling as he took in the two of them hunched over a pile of old tarnished shields and breastplates. "I see you've gotten His Highness to settle down in one place for longer than a few minutes," he said. "Good for you, Starlet."

Blinking at the new nickname, she grinned sheepishly. "That's not patronizing at all, is it?" she said, mimicking his typical response to the Pevensies calling him "D.L.F."

"Well, Their Majesties don't exactly lend themselves to nicknames, so I have to take it out somewhere else, wouldn't you agree?" he replied.

She made a face. "I suppose."

He motioned toward the armor they were polishing. "Mind if I join you? I have some things to discuss with Caspian."

"Do you want me to leave?" she asked, beginning to get up, but he waved her back into her seat.

"It's nothing that you can't hear. Keep polishing those shields."

She settled back and picked up the rag she'd dropped. Trumpkin dragged over another barrel and seated himself on it. He looked her over briefly. "Did you have the healers tend to you?" he asked critically, his eyes traveling over what he could see of her various bruises and scrapes.

She made a face at him. "I don't see you interrogating Caspian about _his_ battle scars. Stop fussing over me like a mother hen."

The Red Dwarf's brows knit together and he turned to look at Caspian, a teasing smile on his face. "She's got pluck, this one."

The Telmarine prince chuckled softly in reply, his eyes meeting hers briefly before looking back at Trumpkin. "Leave her alone, Trumpkin, and give me the report you came with."

The Dwarf looked as if he might enjoy teasing his young companions a bit more, but he hemmed and hawed importantly and settled back with a set of greaves and a polish-dipped rag to do some polishing of his own. "One of the faun sentries says he caught a glimpse of a Telmarine soldier at the edge of the woods beyond the How Field. That means they know where we are, Prince."

The mood in the room seemed to plummet to a new, deeply serious level. Caspian's face fell and his lips pressed into a thin line as he contemplated the implications of the information he'd just received. "But that means that we will have to meet them in full battle," he murmured grimly. "No more sorties and surprise attacks. Our forces against theirs." He tossed aside the polishing rag and set the armor on the ground. "I don't really like the sound of that."

"Does Peter know?" Arrani asked Trumpkin.

"Of course. He was the one who told me."

Caspian raised his head. "What does he say?"

"He said for me to tell you that we will convene a council of war in the Table Hall at sunset. We have many plans to discuss."

One question was bothering Arrani. "Just how _many_ soldiers does your uncle have?" she asked Caspian.

He looked up at her with a grim expression. "Double or triple our forces, at least."

"And if they lay siege to the How?"

He shook his head. "We might last a few days on our stores, but no longer."

Trumpkin looked equally grim, and Arrani began to realize just how precarious her position was in this life. She had run away from home looking for adventure and now she was starting to feel as if she'd found more than she really wanted. Somehow, even during the fighting at Miraz's castle, she had never really believed that she could actually die without seeing her father again. Now that it was a very real possibility, she began to regret her hasty flight from her island home. She hadn't even said a proper goodbye to her father.

"Well," Trumpkin said after a long, drawn-out pause, "there are many things to do before the council. I'd best be seeing to some of them. You would do well to get busy yourselves," he added, looking severely at both of them. He tromped out on whatever business required his attention, leaving two very silent young people sitting motionless behind him.

Caspian seemed to guess exactly what Arrani was thinking. "Do you regret coming to us, now?" he asked her when they were alone.

She took a shaky breath and fiddled distractedly with a strand of her hair. "I regret not saying goodbye to my father," she said at last.

"It's not too late, you know. If you left now, you could get out through the woods behind the How and probably make it to the river. After that, you'd be past most of Miraz's soldiers and they'd be busy worrying about us."

"You think I could just leave now?" she asked him.

He blinked at her. "You have no reason to stay. Your family is not threatened; you have no connection to Narnia. You've done far more than anyone would ever expect of you by helping us at all."

"This isn't about expectations," she replied quietly, "This is about friends that I love and care about. I can't just leave them to die while I live." She straightened and looked away, keeping her hands carefully folded out of sight so that he couldn't see how frightened she was. "If I left now, I would regret it more than I could ever regret coming here."

She glanced up to see what he would say and saw him looking at the fold of her skirt that covered her hands. "Well, if you want to stay, there's not a lot we can do about it," he said at last. He leaned forward and flicked the fold away from her hands. "And I won't say that it doesn't make me glad that you're staying. Your hands are glowing again," he said, changing track suddenly.

"Well spotted," she replied a little sourly. She wasn't really meaning to be rude, but the conversation, combined with her own conflicting feelings, had made her touchy.

"Sorry," he answered, offering a conciliatory smile.

"Caspian!" Edmund came around the corner suddenly and stopped short, seeing the two of them in conversation. "Sorry," he said, clearing his throat and shuffling his feet awkwardly. "Um, Peter wants to see you before the council starts. He also said for me to invite you, too, Arrani. You've earned your place."

* * *

_One more chapter and then more action. ;) I don't know about you guys, but I'm itching for some more. I keep brainstorming for things to do later on and keep realizing that I have to get there first. So enough dilly-dallying and onwards I go!_

_Elena_


	10. War Councils

**Chapter Ten: War Councils**

It felt as though they'd been in council for hours on end. All the captains had something to say and everyone hashed over every possible option – there weren't many – over and over again. The How was reasonably well-stocked and could support the whole of the Narnian army for at least a week. However, with the vast amount of men they would be facing – all of whom would have access to supply wagons and resources – this of little real comfort. The cave system had also been extended beyond the footprint of the hill itself, into a network of caves lacing through the ground under the How Field. Peter and Caspian both agreed that they would use this as a tactic to sabotage and cut off at least a portion of Miraz's army. Peter also wanted to mimic a tactic from his days battling the White Witch: using gryphons to provide an aerial attack and split the enemy's attention between land and air. It was a good idea, but they kept arriving at the same frustrating conclusion every time they brought it up: it simply wasn't enough. They didn't have enough people; they didn't have enough time. Miraz's forces were too strong.

Throughout the constant hashing and rehashing of ideas, Arrani noticed that Peter frequently glanced from his advisors and friends to the stone carving of Aslan on the wall behind the Stone Table. He seemed to have aged several years in the hours since she'd seen him that morning. Following his presentation of the aerial attack idea, he fell silent for the remainder of the time, while Caspian and Edmund led the discussions. After a long discussion on combining multiple different techniques in an attempt to outsmart the Telmarines, a disheartened silence fell on those assembled. It was in that moment that Peter finally spoke again. "I think it's time we put our trust in the One who _can_ help us," he said quietly with a pointed glance at the etching of the Lion.

"We don't even know if He'll help us," Trumpkin observed darkly.

"Yes, we do!" Lucy piped up. She, too, had been largely silent throughout the proceedings. "I've seen Him. I know He will help us, if we ask Him."

Trumpkin appeared surprised at this, though he refrained from making any comment or asking any questions.

"We need His help," Peter agreed, "but we need to find Him quickly. We won't have much time before the Telmarines arrive."

"Lucy, where did you last see Aslan?" Susan asked, looking to her younger sister.

"In the shuddering wood, just before we found Caspian and the Narnians," she replied promptly.

It was a dangerous stretch of country now, especially with Miraz's soldiers on the prowl, but Peter didn't seem deterred by this. "Do you think you could see Him again, Lu?"

Lucy hesitated. "I think so… if I asked for Him. But I don't think He'll come _here_ now. Not after…" she trailed off, looking at the pillars where the White Witch had been summoned. She shook herself. "I'll have to go somewhere to find Him."

Peter nodded as though expecting this, but Arrani was concerned. Straightening, she stepped forward. "If I may, High King, she said, deliberately using Peter's title, "I don't think it wise for Lucy to go alone."

"I agree!" Trumpkin announced, "Are you honestly thinking of sending a little girl into the forest when we have a whole Telmarine army crawling through those trees? No offence," he added in an aside to Lucy.

"None taken," she replied levelly.

Susan hefted her bow and stepped forward, her lips pressed in a thin line. "She won't be alone. I'll go with her."

Trumpkin still looked like he wanted to object to this as well, but a glance from Peter quelled him. "Susan and Lucy will go to find Aslan. The rest of us will prepare for battle. I can only hope that we can last long enough for them to find Him."

Dubious silence greeted this statement. They all knew that Miraz's army was far larger than theirs. It seemed unlikely that they would be able to hold out for very long.

"I will challenge Miraz to single combat," Peter added at last, his expression set in grim determination.

Stunned gasps and muffled exclamations of surprise rippled around the room. "Are you _sure_?" Caspian asked.

Peter regarded him defensively. "Of course. It will buy us the time we need for Susan and Lucy to get through. Will your uncle feel unthreatened enough by me to accept?"

"He may not accept at all," Edmund pointed out. "He knows he has the stronger army."

"He is bound by tradition to accept," Caspian replied, chewing on this new information with a furrowed brow. "Let me challenge him," he said suddenly, "he murdered my father."

Arrani caught Doctor Cornelius sending his pupil a sharp glance, but the young Telmarine did not acknowledge the look.

"It won't work," Peter replied with a shake of his head, "Miraz knows you. He will more surely laugh at your challenge than he will at mine."

Caspian plainly wanted to argue this point, but Doctor Cornelius had now resorted to a brief cough and the tiniest shake of his head. Caspian at last backed down, glowering slightly.

"It's settled then," Peter said, "I will challenge Miraz; Edmund, Wimbleweather and Glenstorm will carry my challenge before him. While they are gone, we will send Susan and Lucy to the East into the woods to find Aslan. If we are fortunate, they will find Him before the combat is over."

They dismissed to attend to the various preparations necessary before the battle. As they filed out of the Table Hall, Arrani found herself walking next to a still-glowering Caspian. Sure that he was still fuming over the Miraz issue, she murmured gently, "You'll get your chance."

"Not if Peter kills him first," he responded shortly, stalking off ahead of her on whatever business seemed most important to him.

"Arrani," Trumpkin called, weaving his way up to her from behind, "Peter wants you assigned with Caspian in the underground. He'd put you with me, but you can't use a bow to save your life and he doesn't want you in the front lines with him. He says it's no place for a woman."

"Trumpkin, if we're fighting an army the size of Miraz's, _everything_ will be the front lines at some point," she pointed out logically.

"Quit being so sensible and let Peter be noble if he wants to be," Trumpkin grumbled, making Arrani chuckle softly. "Enough of your laughing and go get ready, Starlet," the Dwarf added grouchily. "We'll have a bloody battle yet, I'll wager."

* * *

_I like Trumpkin. He's fun to write. He's just such a grouch and a cynic most of the time. Hm, Arrani seems to be a naturally merry person. I've just noticed that. I guess that's a good thing. I'm still itching a little about her, though. She's being a good character so far, but I keep feeling like she's not quite up to par with my standards of non-Sue-ness. Perhaps it's just her nature as a part-star. She's sort of Sue-ish naturally, but not in any terribly-obvious way. Any suggestions for further character cleanup? It's always appreciated!_

_Elena_


	11. Sudden Departures

**Chapter Eleven: Sudden Departures**

The next morning, at the barest hint of light in the eastern sky, Arrani, Peter, Edmund, Caspian and Trumpkin were helping Susan and Lucy get ready to ride in search of Aslan. Everything was going according to plan. Miraz had accepted the challenge, the marshals for the lists had been selected, the various creative battle techniques had been set up, and now they were sending the two Queens off on perhaps the most dangerous part of the day's maneuvers.

The Pevensie siblings were saying goodbye to each other while Caspian and Arrani checked over Caspian's horse Destrier to make sure he was ready to carry them in search of Aslan. Susan broke away from her brothers and came over to Arrani, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Are you afraid?" Arrani asked her.

Susan smiled warmly. "Of course. Are you?"

"I'd be a fool not to be," she replied, deliberately restating the phrase Susan had told her the night before the assault on Miraz's castle. They both smiled at the reference and embraced tightly in a flurry of tears. "Be safe, Susan," Arrani whispered.

"You too," Susan responded, hugging her a little tighter. She pulled away and Caspian and Peter helped her mount Destrier. Lucy approached Arrani for a quick, heartfelt hug of her own, and Peter lifted her up into Susan's arms.

"Good luck, and be safe," Peter told them, his eyes full of emotion. They all knew that they might not see Susan and Lucy again. Too many things could go wrong. As the horse galloped off through the tunnels and out into the first rays of the morning sun, Edmund laid a comforting hand on Peter's shoulder while Arrani hastily dried her eyes and tried to occupy herself with finishing her own preparations. She bid a brief farewell to her companions and hurried to her room to get her armor on. It was more difficult without Susan's helping hands, but she managed.

Fully armored now, she hurried to the section of the How that housed the horses of Narnia, both Talking and mute. She hadn't had much time to train properly to ride a horse, so, with Peter's help, she had found a Talking Horse who had consented to bear her during the battle. His name was Brynn and he was the most beautiful Horse she'd ever seen. He stood close to seventeen hands high and was a glowing chestnut color with satiny black mane, tail and hocks. He was a kind soul with a unicorn-like weakness for young ladies and they had immediately taken a shine to each other. Now, she came in search of him to seek some pre-battle comfort.

"It's alright, filly," he whickered. "We will not die easily."

"Do you remember the plan?" she asked him. Unlike mute horses, Brynn probably knew more about battles and tactical maneuvers than even Caspian or the Bulgy Bears. She was counting on his experience to guide them on the battlefield.

He huffed gently in affirmation. "Just follow my lead."

Quiet footsteps through the straw alerted them. Brynn's ears went up and he raised his head away from Arrani's cheek. She turned to see Caspian sliding into the stall of a mute horse, a saddle in his arms. He had yet to notice Arrani and Brynn's presence. Shifting so that she was partially hidden in Brynn's shadow, Arrani watched him carefully as he saddled the horse and started to mount. She could restrain herself no longer.

"Caspian!" she said, stepping out of Brynn's stall.

He jumped, twisting in his saddle to look at her as she came to stand at his stirrup. "Arrani…" he murmured, looking disoriented. "What are you doing here?"

Hands on her hips, she replied, "I might ask you the same question. You're not running, are you?"

He was antsy and fidgety as she stared up at him, trying to figure out _what_ he could possibly be doing. "I'm not running from anything," he responded, moving the horse several steps away from her. She responded by jumping forward and latching her hands onto the horse's bridle near the bit so that it wouldn't pull away from her. "Look," he said, still appearing nervous, "the girls need help. And don't ask me how I know," he added as she opened her mouth to ask that very question. "Just… trust me," he pleaded, staring down at her. "Susan and Lucy won't make it through unless I do something."

"But _how_ do you know?" she asked anyway, disregarding his request that she refrain from doing so.

The horse pranced beside her and she took care to make sure her feet were clear of its hooves. Caspian clearly wanted to be moving already, but he took the time to reply, "I don't _know_, but I feel like I should go. Better safe than sorry, right?"

"And what if Peter asks me where you've gone and why? You're going to get me in so much trouble if I let you go," she said ruefully, releasing her hold on the horse's bridle.

He grinned disarmingly. "Sorry about that. I'll be back soon." Before she could think of saying anything else, he spurred his horse and dashed out of the How, leaving her standing in his wake with a funny swooping feeling in her stomach as she watched him go.

* * *

_Never could figure out in the movie just HOW Caspian knew to go after Susan and Lucy. Of course, it was probably just that the directors wanted an extra scene to throw in some Suspian references. Blegh. So this was my take on it. Keeping Arrani as the potential love-interest, of course._

_Please review!_

_Elena_


	12. Tangling With Telmarines

_Another long action chappie. Sorry, battles just don't split up into chapters very well. Better to spit it all out at once and not make you suffer too much trying to read my action scenes, which still aren't up to par. What can you do, right?_

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: Tangling With Telmarines**

Distant bugle calls rang out, drawing Arrani's attention back to the events occurring right outside Aslan's How. She knew that the combat between Peter and Miraz would begin soon. Briefly massaging her temples, she sighed and directed her steps outside to where Edmund was helping Peter cinch up his armor. Glenstorm, Wimbleweather and one of the Bulgy Bears stood nearby as the marshals of the lists.

Peter looked up as she hurried toward him to wish him luck. "Arrani," he said by way of greeting, looking up from buckling on his greaves. He glanced up again, his eyes scanning behind her before darkening dangerously. "Where is Caspian?"

Edmund also turned. "I thought he was with you," he said, looking critically at her.

"He… um…" This was much harder than she thought. The look on Peter's face told her that the High King _needed_ to have the Telmarine prince at his side at this point. "He went after Susan and Lucy," she finally confessed. "I don't know what made him do it. I tried to stop him. I'm sorry."

Peter pursed his lips. Edmund scuffed his boot in the dirt. "Great timing," the younger king muttered.

Arrani turned to go to her position inside the How, when Peter stopped with a hand on her arm. "Don't go," he asked her. "I could use the moral support." It was the first time the High King had displayed any vulnerability and she couldn't refuse. She would much rather be topside with them, anyway.

"What will we do without Caspian?" she asked him, taking Peter's helmet from the ground and placing it in Peter's hands.

"We'll have to commence without him," Peter said tonelessly. Arrani wasn't sure what they were thinking. She wasn't even sure what _she_ was thinking. She doubted Caspian would run away, but he might. What would they do if he didn't come back? These and other questions raced around inside her head as Peter walked out into the center of the arena designated for the fighting. A menacingly-masked Miraz stalked toward him from the opposite side. Arrani was certainly no expert, but even she could tell that the Telmarine was significantly bigger than Peter. It hardly seemed fair.

The pair crossed blades in a salute and exchanged a few words that she couldn't hear. Miraz attacked first, raining down a series of heavy blows on Peter's shield as the younger man struggled to maintain his footing and dodge out from under the attack. Suddenly, the High King lashed out with his sword, scoring a long scratch across Miraz's breastplate with a piercing screech of steel on brass. Freed at last from the barrage of blows, Peter lowered his shield and launched a vicious attack on the bigger, older man. Between Miraz's size and Peter's agility, they appeared to be almost evenly matched and the fighting drew on for several long, painful minutes until Peter managed to land a blow across the unarmored part of Miraz's thigh. Miraz had managed to do something to Peter's shield arm so that his shield hung limply at his side. Both looked badly in need of a respite and they apparently agreed; a few seconds later, they separated and returned to the waiting arms of their respective captains and friends.

A faun brought a bucket of cool, clear water, which Arrani helped ladle into a cup for Peter to drink from. He motioned for her to put the cup to his lips while Edmund went to work on his shield arm, massaging and feeling it for the problem. She tipped the water down his throat three times before he was satisfied, then hovered nearby, watching them anxiously.

"What do you suppose happens to us on the other side, Ed?" Peter asked his brother. "Do we just disappear, or is it like we never existed?"

The ever-sensible Edmund dismissed this kind of talk with a noncommittal grunt, still working intently on Peter's arm, moving progressively from the wrist to the shoulder with strong massaging movements.

"You know," Peter began on a more sentimental track, "I don't think I've ever told you, Ed, how much I – AHH!" he cried out suddenly as his younger brother sharply jerked on his shoulder. They heard an audible crack as his arm slid back into its socket.

"Save it," Edmund told him with a wry smile.

Suddenly shouts arose from the Narnian side. A dark horse galloped toward them bearing two riders. Arrani could tell from their sizes that it was Susan and Caspian. They reined in just inches from them, spraying dirt and sod all over Edmund and Arrani, who ducked out of the way.

"Lucy…?" Peter asked desperately as Caspian helped Susan slide to the ground.

"She made it through, I think," Susan replied. She looked slightly unsteady on her feet and Arrani hurried over to her and slipped an arm around her shoulders.

Peter nodded, resigned. "Pray that she gets through." He glanced back at the waiting arena. Miraz was on his feet, sword drawn, clearly ready to reengage. "You'd better go up and join the archers, Su. Arrani, go to your post, now. Neither of you should have to be this close to the fight." He silenced Arrani's objections with a severe glance and added, "Caspian will join you when the fight is over. You must let them know."

She nodded in resignation. Now that Caspian was here, Peter didn't really need her pair of hands to help him out. Before she turned to go, she extended a hand toward Peter. "It's been an honor serving with you, High King," she murmured.

He gripped her forearm in the Narnian military shake. "We'll see each other again," he said, trying to be confident.

"I'm sure we will," she conceded, "but just in case." She began walking back toward the How as Susan threw her arms around her brother in a similar but more intimate expression of Arrani's parting sentiments.

* * *

Just as she reached the entrance to the How, renewed shouts and clashes of steel reached her ears; the fight had recommenced. She cast one last look over her shoulder and caught the glint of Peter's silver and red armor winking in the sun in front of the gold blur of Miraz. Praying hard that it wouldn't be the last time she saw Peter, Susan and Edmund, she tore her gaze away and entered the dusky light of the How, searching among the assembled Narnians for Brynn.

He seemed to know she was looking for him, because he stepped forward and whuffed gently into her hair. "How goes it out there?" he asked.

"Well enough," she told him, speaking loud enough for the other anxiously listening Narnians to hear. "Caspian has returned with Susan. Lucy is still alive and looking for Aslan," she added hastily as sounds of dismay greeted her. "Peter and Miraz both were injured in the first bout, but they will probably fight a while longer."

"Then we will wait and be ready to fight when the time comes," Brynn replied in his deep, horse-ish voice. He knelt gracefully and looked at Arrani with kind, wise eyes. "Up you get, little filly. And if you so much as _think_ about touching your heels to my flanks, I'll buck you right off."

She smiled and rolled her eyes at him as she slid into the depression behind his withers. She doubted very much that he would actually buck her off, but she intended to heed his request anyway. As soon as she was settled, Brynn rose and rejoined the ranks of Caspian's army to wait for news of the fight's ending.

At first, the roars and shouts echoing into the How from the Narnians above ground reassured Arrani that Peter was still alive, but after a while, they grew more agonizing to listen to. She begrudged Trumpkin and Susan their position outside on the battlements. At least they could see what was happening. The time seemed to drag on in ever-increasing increments, and Arrani felt more nervous and restless with each passing second. It didn't help that the Narnians around her were shifting restlessly and coughing or sneezing nervously, awaiting the moment when the combat would end and they would find out whether or not Miraz would honor his side of the agreement.

* * *

Several long, tense moments later, they heard the roars outside swell to a peak in volume, followed by the clatter of hooves as Caspian and his mount rushed into the How. "My uncle is dead," he announced flatly, his face studiously blank as his mount about-faced and came to a standstill beside Brynn. "My uncle's advisors will not honor the agreement. They march on us even now."

"Then we will fight them," Arrani said softly.

He smiled ever so slightly. "That's what I told them." He raised his voice to address the rest of his company. "We wait for Peter's signal and then, WE RIDE!"

"NARNIA! ASLAN!" the Narnians replied with a roar. It lasted several seconds and then died into silence as they waited with baited breath for the signal. Once again, Arrani thought of her father. Caspian's earlier offer replayed tauntingly in her mind: _You could be safe with your father right now, far away from the death and carnage that will come today. You would be safe from having to watch your friends die._ Hastily, she reached for her gloves and pulled them on, half-hoping that masking the glow of her hands would quell the thoughts in her head.

"Are you afraid?" She might have known Caspian would notice.

She frowned slightly, but settled for giving him the truthful answer. "Yes."

His yes met hers briefly and she felt a new kind of companionship pass between them. "I am, too," he admitted so that only she could hear.

The confession surprised her. She'd never really thought of Caspian as fearful. He never let it show. Somehow the knowledge that he was afraid as well made _her_ feel a little less afraid.

The moment that they shared shattered as the clear peal of a conch horn sounded above them: the signal. Caspian rallied himself and stood up in his stirrups, sword raised high over his head. "Now!" he shouted as he kicked his horse into a gallop.

"NARNIA!" they shouted in reply. Brynn jumped forward, only a hairsbreadth behind Caspian's mount, needing no encouragement or signal from her to leap into action. They thundered forward and she heard Caspian begin the count beside her.

"_**One**_," he said as he crouched down low over his horse's neck. "_**Two**_." They thundered deeper into the How on either side of the entrance. "_**Three**_." The two corridors joined into one long tunnel. "_**Four**_." They reached the point where the tunnel widened into a vast chamber and the front lines spread out to fill the space. "_**Five**_." The creatures around her slackened speed slightly to a steady run rather than a sprint. "_**Six**_." Hundreds of columns began to blur by, supporting the roof overhead. "_**Seven**_." She knew they were under and past the spot where Peter had fought Miraz above. "_**Eight**_." Heavy broadswords and clubs slid out of their sheaths, swinging menacingly. "_**Nine**_." The central portion of the army that included her and Caspian put on an extra burst of speed to clear the way for the warriors who lined up their timing with the several columns that remained. "_**TEN**_!" Caspian bellowed at last, and with a roar, the strongest of their army swung at the pillars and shattered them. The ceiling overhead began to crumble and fall as Caspian's band dashed madly to clear the danger zone. Ahead of them, two waiting fauns cut the ropes that held the reinforced trap doors shut, and the ramps dropped, opening up into the bright sunlight above.

Brynn broke away from Caspian's mount to go up the other ramp with half of the forces. They burst into the fresh air and Arrani could see that their plan had worked flawlessly: they had emerged on the Telmarine side of the cavalry and had effectively cut them off from the foot soldiers. Swinging about, they charged into the tail end of the cavalry, catching them unawares and cutting through them with relative ease.

Arrani's short knives were not designed to be effective from horseback, but Brynn had a knack for maneuvering close enough for both of them to inflict damage. His favorite tactic was to dance in alongside a Telmarine horseman and snap at the other horse's neck or forelegs while Arrani jabbed at the rider with her knives. The blood and the cries made her stomach churn, but she forced herself to continue to inflict as much damage as she possibly could. They couldn't afford to leave Telmarines alive who would only kill another Narnian later.

A large portion of the cavalry had fallen into the cave-in and was now either crushed or floundering around in the loose debris. The Narnians cut through the remaining cavalry and rejoined Peter and Edmund who had not moved from the fighting block. They turned to face the footmen again, anxiously waiting to see if the Telmarines would call off the attack. Such hopes were vain; the foot soldiers began marching forward, hedging them in.

Peter's eyes traveled over the scene with great sadness. Arrani could see the defeat in his eyes. They simply were too few. Drawing in a deep breath, he turned and called out, "Back to the How! Get inside and regroup!"

Brynn obeyed immediately, wheeling around and running past Peter and Edmund toward the How, determined to at least get her out of harm's way. Before they could cut the distance in half, however, a barrage of humongous rocks rained down against the outside of the How, shattering the rocks that supported the battlements and archway. Just in time, Brynn pulled up short and swerved to one side to save them from being pummeled by the falling rocks.

"SU!" Arrani was still trying to recover from being nearly unseated when the combined cry of Peter and Edmund drew her horrified gaze to the battlements of the How. Rocks continued to rain down, both from the Telmarine catapults and from the still-crumbling rock faces on the How. Through them, she could see Susan swinging from a ledge as Trumpkin struggled to hold onto her. They tried unsuccessfully to pull her back onto the ledge, and after several such attempts, Susan moved along the ledge and dropped to the next-closest level, landing lightly and stepping quickly away as the rock began to crumble where she'd landed. Nimbly jumping from ledge to ledge, she descended to outer shell of the How and soon joined them on the ground. Arrani sighed in relief and dismounted to greet Susan with a hasty – though heartfelt – embrace. Together, with Brynn at their side, they hurried to rejoin Peter, Edmund, Caspian, and several other Narnians.

"Both of you stay near me!"Brynn ordered, "I will try to protect you from harm."

He positioned himself between both girls and the advancing Telmarine army, while Peter, Edmund and Caspian backed into them to complete the circle, blades out and swinging restlessly. A quick, anxious glance around revealed similar clumps of Narnians scattered across the field, preparing for the final battle.

The Telmarine soldiers were nearly within the reach of their swords when Peter raised the warcry once more, his voice joined by one, then several, then all of the Narnians all over the field. "FOR NARNIA! FOR ASLAN!" He charged forward, hacking down on the closest Telmarine with all the fury of a cornered beast. Drawn in by his cry, Arrani joined in the fray, Brynn and Susan close beside her.

The sheer volume of enemy soldiers soon broke up the knots of Narnians and Arrani found herself separated from Brynn, Susan, and the others, left to fend for herself. The basic survival instincts that belonged to the part of her that was human kicked in full force and her mind closed down to the narrowest focus. She lashed and struck and ducked among the Telmarines, barely registering the faraway pain as one blade or another found its way through her armor to her skin underneath. At different times, she found herself fighting alongside Caspian or Peter or Susan and then the battle would draw them apart again. The fighting seemed to draw on into forever, until she couldn't remember a time when she hadn't been fighting or imagine a future besides the onslaught of yet another attacker. She felt like a machine; her muscles began to act without thought, replaying the thousands of drills she'd had drummed into her head since she'd arrived in Narnia.

Vaguely, she registered Caspian falling into the hole created by the cave-in, but she could spare no concern for him because yet another Telmarine soldier was slicing at her with his blade. She ducked to the side, wincing as she felt the sword graze her thigh, adding yet another scratch to the scores already littering her arms and legs. Her body seemed to have at last exhausted its supply of energy and she began to feel exhaustion tugging at her, clouding her vision and slowing her reflexes. She swung wildly at him, managing to cut into the mail just above his wrist. The contact forced him to draw back sharply and recover. The brief respite was all she needed for her legs to give out. She fell hard on her knees and rolled painfully onto her back, no longer caring that she couldn't fight anymore.

The soldier recovered and raised his sword to finish her off at last. In that moment, she forgot about the pain and the exhaustion and thought of her father on that lonely Island at the Beginning of the End of the World. She wondered if he was thinking of her at that moment and felt a pang of guilt for not being able to come back to him. She was so caught up in the vision of her father that she didn't recognize that the soldier's expression had changed to one of pure terror. She _did_ notice, however, when he dropped his sword and began to run back toward the river.

All around her she could hear Telmarines crying, "The Wood! The Wood! The end of the World!" as they turned tail and ran. Just as she had begun to think that they couldn't possibly be at the End of the World, she realized that the trembling she was feeling did not come from her aching muscles, but from the ground beneath her. Edmund and Susan suddenly appeared over her head. "Arrani! You're still alive!" Susan exclaimed in relief.

"Come on," Edmund added, extending a hand, "I think you've been on the ground long enough."

Weakly, she lifted her arms and Edmund and Susan hauled her to her feet. "I forgot that she doesn't have the stamina and experience that we do," Susan murmured to her brother. He nodded briefly and slipped an arm around Arrani's waist to keep her standing.

She was needing less and less assistance, however, as she took in the scene around her. The _trees_ were alive! Tens of trees were wading through the ground as though it were water, their roots snaking along ahead of them to snatch up Telmarine soldiers or dismantle catapults. The sheer wonder and impossibility of it all was sending new waves of energy through her body as she gaped at the majestic beeches, oaks, lindens, and firs moving past her.

Brynn galloped toward them out of the trees. "You're still alive, little filly," he whinnied in greeting. "Come, ladies, ride on my back to the river. We have routed the Telmarines!"

He dropped to his knees and allowed Arrani and Susan to climb onto his broad back. Edmund begged a ride of a passing Bear, who obligingly scooped him up onto its shoulders and lumbered onward at a pace far faster than a human could run.

They soon caught up to the forefront of the Narnian army where Peter and Caspian were leading the charge after the fleeing Telmarines. Brynn slowed to match their pace and they came to a stop at the river Beruna's edge. The Telmarines were already scrambling to cross the bridge. Some were even starting to wade across the river itself.

A small figure stood alone on the opposite end of the bridge. It was Lucy. She looked so small and frail against the might of the Telmarine army, but then a magnificent creature approached from behind her. He was a tawny Lion, as big as Brynn, with gold flecks showering from His mane and warm golden eyes that warmed Arrani's blood even from across the river. The Telmarine horses balked as the Lion lifted His great golden head and roared. It was a roar that shook the air and rattled Arrani to the very core of her being, filling her with an electric energy that erased every ounce of fatigue from her body. Her companions were likewise affected.

From far upriver, the rushing sound of great waters came rumbling toward them. Amid the cresting and rolling white waves, the watery head of the river god, rose up, showering water all over the Telmarines. He appeared to regard them sternly for a moment before ducking under the bridge. With a mighty heave of his great, watery shoulders, he wrenched the bridge from its foundation and tore it and the Telmarines still on it to shreds, drowning all of it in the deluge pouring from his body. Delivered at last of the binding bridge, he settled back into the water while the remaining Telmarine forces hurried frantically to surrender their weapons to the waiting Narnians.

* * *

_Love the Peter/Edmund exchange at the beginning of the chapter. It was one of my favorite scenes in the movie. Peter's trying to get all philosophical and sentimental and Edmund effectively tells him to shut up by yanking on his shoulder. It just screams "little brother" to me. _

_Brynn's a distant grandson of Hwin from Horse and His Boy, hence the name-rhyming. I'm sure I'll bring that up somewhere later. Sorry if he seems to be a kind of sudden new character. I'm planning on keeping him around for awhile. Especially since he's so pretty. :)_

_As always, please review!_

_Elena_


	13. The Great Lion

**Chapter Thirteen: Aslan**

While Glenstorm supervised the collection of weapons and surrender of the Telmarines, Peter, Susan, Edmund, Trumpkin and Caspian forded the river to approach Aslan. Arrani would have stayed behind, but the Lion's gaze, as well as the summons of her friends, drew her to join them. When at last they all stood before Aslan, they knelt together at His feet.

"Rise, Kings and Queens of Narnia," he commanded in a voice as deep and rich as the ocean itself. After brief pause, he added, "All of you."

Arrani glanced up to see Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy on their feet but Caspian still kneeling. He, too, looked up. "I-I do not think that I am ready," he mumbled humbly.

The Lion's eyes were warm and understanding. "It is for that reason I know that you are. Arise."

Caspian obeyed, rising to his full height and standing straighter than Arrani could ever recall seeing him stand.

She next felt the Lion's gaze come to rest on her. "Star's Daughter, arise," he said gently. She obeyed. "I have heard the many pleas of your father on your behalf. He has missed you greatly, but you have grown in your time away from him."

The reference to her father's anxiety caused a blush to creep up her cheeks and the guilt once again gnawed at her insides.

"Trumpkin, Son of the Earth, do you believe in me know?" Aslan roared, turning away from Arrani and rounding on the little Red Dwarf. Trumpkin trembled visibly, but his eyes remained downcast in reverence and he nodded haltingly. Aslan seemed pleased.

"Now," he said, returning his attention to the Narnians – most of whom were now flocking toward him, their eyes filled with adoration – "Tomorrow we shall ride in to the kingdom, but tonight is for your rest and replenishment."

* * *

The feasting that night was exquisite. The Fauns, Dwarfs, Centaurs, and other animals pulled out all the stops to prepare the best food possible. Even the Moles pitched in and unearthed their best soils for the Trees to eat. Arrani ate as much as she could hold and more. After satisfying her hunger, she wandered a short distance away from the campfires and candles and settled down on a patch of open grass to lie down on her back and observe the stars. Her eyes traced the constellations that were as dear to her as friends and she thought of her father for the thousandth time that day, imagining him gazing up at the same stars. The thought comforted her and she began to miss her home. She had fallen in love with Narnia, but the Beginning of the End of the World was where her father lived, and she knew that she must return to him soon so that he would no longer have to worry about her. So, she closed her eyes, breathed deeply, and savored the taste of the pure, clear Narnian air.

Soft footsteps interrupted her reverie and she cracked an eye open to see Caspian approach and seat himself beside her. "Do you mind?" he asked.

In truth, his presence was as comforting as the stars overhead. "No," she said quietly, "I don't mind."

Lying down on his back beside her, he stretched luxuriously and stared up at the stars. "It was stars that started this whole thing," he said after several long, peaceful moments.

"What do you mean?"

"Doctor Cornelius used to take me to the top of the highest tower in the castle to teach me about Narnia while my uncle believed we were stargazing. I guess you could say that they're part of the reason I am who I am."

Her mind went back to an earlier conversation they'd had on a similar subject. "And who are you?" she asked softly.

He paused, thinking. "I am… a Prince of Narnians," he said at last, "and I will be a better king than those before me, with Aslan as my guide."

Arrani smiled up at the sky. "You will make a fine king."

"I hope so," he replied. They fell into a comfortable silence and watched the stars move across the heavens until they both drifted off into restful, healing slumber.

* * *

_Short chappie! Just a little tender bonding moment between Arrani and Caspian. I realized it's about time to start introducing some romance. Gosh darnit she's going to marry him, after all! And just so you all know, this story is probably going to be LONG. I'm planning on taking her all the way through until she gives birth to Rilian, if not beyond that. In truth, most of these chapters are sort of just the prologue to what I want to do. A prestory to the passage in VotDT. _

_So I have a " Would you Rather" question for you, my dear readers: Would you rather I turn this into two separate stories, or should I make it one long story? FEEDBACK IS DESPERATELY NEEDED ON THIS ONE!_

_Thanks! _

_Elena_

_PS: Side note to Mercury: You were very insightful in the last chapter. While Aslan does not address the issue at present, it will certainly come up. Very soon._


	14. Nightmares

**Chapter Fourteen: Nightmares**

_Blank and lifeless eyes stared up at her from the ground as she stepped over their bodies. Soldiers fell before her again and again, spilling blood and gasping at her for breath, their fingers clutching pleadingly at the hem of her skirt. Then suddenly, her father was gasping his dying breaths at her feet, his eyes glazing over, his blood staining her skirt. She tried to step back, but he had locked his fingers around her boot, clinging to her with every last ounce of strength he possessed. "My… Arrani…" he rasped, before falling still, his blank eyes wide and staring._

* * *

Arrani sat bolt upright, heaving for breath, shuddering as the brisk night wind plucked at her sweat-soaked clothing. There was a depression in the grass where Caspian had been sleeping, but she was currently alone in the clearing. The stars still twinkled cheerfully above her and the wood around her was filled with peaceful night sounds. Off to the east, she could make out the faint yellow-red glow of the campfires where the rest of the Narnians were gathered. She thought back on the vision that had awakened her. "It's just a dream," she murmured to herself, hoping that speaking aloud would calm the thunder pounding in her ears. She took several deep breaths, convincing herself that it had all been a nightmare. At last, she felt her heartbeat slow and she stopped shuddering involuntarily.

Still feeling a little shaken, she got up and picked up her belt and knives that she'd unstrapped before lying down. The starlight reflected off the dull red stains on her blades and she suddenly blanched again as the scenes from her nightmare replayed themselves in her mind. Why hadn't she cleaned them last night? Her stomach heaved and she rushed over to the trees and emptied last night's meal into the bushes. Disgusted with herself, she grabbed up a handful of leaves and wiped the spittle from her mouth.

Suddenly a gentle hand came to rest between her shoulder blades, making her jump. Whipping around, she saw Peter standing beside her, his eyes filled with kind understanding. Embarrassed to be caught in such a humiliating circumstance, she flushed and hurriedly touched her lips to make sure there was no lingering residue.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked at last. "I heard noises while I was walking through the woods. I'm sorry if I surprised you."

Instead of replying directly, she tossed her belt away from her. "Never again," she vowed fervently. Tears began to fill her eyes and she covered her face, sinking down to her knees. Peter sank down beside her, keeping one hand on her shoulder. "Does it ever go away?" she asked him.

"The nightmares will fade," he replied soberly, "But they never entirely leave."

She drew in a steadying breath. "How often do you have them?"

"Every time I fight, I get a new set."

She shook her head sadly. "I hate this. I never want to fight again."

He squeezed her shoulder. "Don't hate your dreams, Arrani. I'd rather have them than be forced to acknowledge that bloodshed no longer bothers me. It tells me that I'm still human."

"I'm certainly still human, then," she acknowledged ruefully. "But… I don't want to have to relive this every night, or ever again. I can't deal with it."

Peter nodded. "It's one of the reasons I don't like letting my sisters fight in our battles. I don't want Narnia's women to have to suffer what we try to suffer for them." He waited a moment before taking her arms and pulling her to her feet again. "Let's get you back to the fire," he said gently. They took several steps before he paused and stooped to pick up the belt and blades Arrani had tossed aside. He handled them carefully, looking kindly at her as she fought her revulsion. "I'll clean these later, and I won't ask you to carry them again, unless you want to."

He led her through the woods and back to the fires, where most of the Narnians had drifted into slumber. Some tossed and turned, but far more slept peacefully. Looking around, she saw that Aslan was seated on a small hillock, His kind eyes traveling over each of His sleeping subjects in turn. He looked up at her as Peter guided her toward the fire where the few still-alert Narnians were gathered – among them, the other King and Queens and Caspian – and His eyes were so warm and reassuring that she felt the memories of her nightmares dissipate into nothingness. The others looked up as she and Peter stepped into the firelight. Caspian jumped up, followed by Susan.

"Are you alright?" he asked her anxiously. From the looks on his and the others' faces, she guessed she looked noticeably shaken.

"Arrani is not as accustomed as we are to the aftermath of battle," Peter told them gently, patting her kindly. "Caspian, see to it that she finds somewhere comfortable to spend the rest of the night." He stepped away from her and moved to settle himself beside Lucy, who snuggled under his arm and closed her eyes immediately.

"I shouldn't have left you in that clearing alone," Caspian said regretfully.

"No, I'm glad you did," she replied softly, "I wouldn't have wanted you to see the condition I was in. You've seen enough of my weaknesses as it is."

The skin around his eyes crinkled in the tiniest hint of a smile. "Peter saw you."

Now amidst the comforting presence of friends and feeling her normal state-of-mind returning, she allowed an answering smile. "Like I said, you've seen more of my humiliating circumstances than I think I'm willing to let you see."

His mouth twitched in amusement, and he led her over to a seat between him and Susan. "We leave for the castle in a few hours. You may stay up with us, if you'd like, or you can find somewhere comfortable to get some more sleep."

"No thank you, I've had enough sleep tonight," she replied, seating herself next to Susan. The other girl looked at her understandingly and they snuggled into each other, resting their heads together and gazing at the flickering firelight while a faint band of color grew steadily brighter in the eastern sky.

* * *

_I never could understand how so many heroes, especially female ones, could go through a horrifically bloody battle without the slightest evidence of any unsettled emotions afterward. It intrigued me to explore a little into what a _normal_ person might feel about the carnage. _

_I also kind of liked the exchange between Peter and Arrani about it. Luckily for Arrani, Peter will be leaving soon, and such embarrassing circumstances need never be relived. That's why I chose him rather than Caspian, as well as for the fact that Peter undoubtedly has more post-battle experience._

_Thanks, as always, for reading!_

_Elena_


	15. Looming Departures

**Chapter Fifteen: Looming Departures**

The buildings and fortifications of the castle looked far more welcoming and less imposing by the light of day than they had at night. Arrani supposed this was partly due to the manner of her entrance to the castle. This time, she was crossing the courtyard in the midst of a cheering crowd that had gathered to welcome their new king. Caspian certainly looked the part, despite having had no time to change into more appropriate apparel.

They were ushered inside by servants and attendants and led to their individual apartments. Arrani found in her room all the things she could want, including gowns of various colors and designs – donated from the wardrobes of Telmarine's noblewomen – and even a little case of ointments and salves to apply to her physical wounds. A large and elegantly-carved wooden bath stood waiting for her in the next room. An ingenious system for hot water had been rigged up through the ceiling that allowed water to flow down through a coal-stoked furnace and out of a tap just above the washbasin.

It was too lovely to resist, and Arrani soaked luxuriously for far longer than she would have under normal circumstances. Some of the oils that she poured into the water and rubbed into her skin helped soothe the aches in her muscles, while others made the uninjured parts of her skin tingle pleasantly. She even found a small flask of the pink potion distilled from Lucy's magical serum. This she used sparingly and rubbed into the worst of the cuts on her arms and legs. She basked in the warm water, gladly feeling all the dirt, grime and sweat of the last few weeks washing away.

After drying off, she selected a pale champagne-colored gown, pulled it on and surveyed herself in a mirror. The sight surprised her. It had been many weeks since she'd last seen her reflection and she could see the evidence of her battles littered in discolored bruises and long, thin lines on her arms and shoulders. There was even a slight, though fading, discoloration in the hairline by her temple where the soldier had smacked her the night of the assault on the castle. Wisely, she pulled on white gloves and a shawl to hide most of it from the public eye.

She wandered out of her rooms and, upon learning that the Kings and Queens were busy and Caspian was attending to affairs of state before his coronation, begged a servant to direct her to the stables to find Brynn.

She found him in the middle of a rubdown, his chestnut coat gleaming in the light streaming through the open doors. "Little filly," he whickered in greeting, "You look more like a mare now – and a lovely one at that."

"Thanks," she replied, removing her gloves and stepping up to him to rub his nose fondly.

He nosed at her wrap pointedly. "No apples?"

She laughed. "No, not this time. I'll have a nice big basket sent to you right away."

"That will be greatly appreciated," he replied happily, "Although, we Talking Horses pride ourselves on being very wise with our eating habits. We never indulge more than we should."

"I'm sure," she replied, inwardly convinced that Brynn could probably out-eat any mute horse several times over.

"Star's Daughter," a deep voice rumbled behind her. Brynn froze and lowered his head in a dignified bow. She turned to find the Lion standing in the doorway behind her, his eyes radiating power and warmth. "Walk with me," He commanded.

The invitation surprised her, but she obeyed with a last look at Brynn and fell into step with the great Lion – or rather, He fell into step with her, allowing her to walk at a pace more comfortable for her. "You are very happy," He observed with a pointed look at her still-ungloved hands. She could see them glowing and hastily tucked them out of sight in the folds of her gown, discreetly attempting to pull the gloves back on as she did so. "Why do you hide your hands?" the Lion asked.

She strongly suspected that He knew the answer already, but he waited patiently for her to answer. "I'm embarrassed," she said frankly. No point beating around the bush with Someone who probably knew her better than she knew herself. "To me, it shows that I'm weak enough to lose control of my emotions. Anyone can know it, just by looking at me."

"Anyone?" the Lion repeated her word choice with a curious twinkle in his eyes.

"Well, no. I've only ever told Caspian."

"And does it feel like a weakness when you're with him?"

The question caught her off-guard. "Why yes, of c—" She stopped suddenly, thinking hard. She had never actually been made to feel weak when he'd been with her in those moments of emotional turmoil. Instead, it almost seemed to make her stronger. She thought of all the moments when he'd pulled her aside or spoken to her alone, always there with something to say that put her back in control.

Aslan seemed to know exactly what she was thinking. "Your friend has never once abused the knowledge you've given him, and his knowledge offers him insight and sensitivity to you. I am right in supposing that you trust him more than any other person in Narnia, am I not?"

"Well, he saved my life several times. Even when he didn't really have to," she said by way of answer. The question confused her a little.

"The knowledge you share created a strong bond of friendship between you. _You_ created it the moment you allowed yourself to trust him, and he, in return, has allowed himself to trust you. Do not let your fears stand in your way, Star's Daughter. They result from your insecurities. Once you embrace everything that is star and human about yourself, you will no longer fear your feelings and characteristics. Instead, you will love and respect them for the capacity they have to bind you to other people."

"But I—" she started to object but thought better of it. Perhaps He had a point. She would ponder His words.

"You have learned much, young one," the Lion rumbled warmly, "but you still have much more to learn. This is why you must return to the land of your birth. Today."

"Today?" she asked, almost plaintively.

"Yes," Aslan replied sternly, "today. You will have a chance to say goodbye, but remember this, Star's Daughter: though you may have learned much and grown significantly while in Narnia, that does not erase the dishonor you did to your father by sneaking off without his permission. He retains his stewardship over you until you are fully ready and I cannot overlook your disobedience to him. I will have more to say to you on this subject before your departure from this land. You will know the moment to leave when it comes."

"Yes, Aslan," she said sadly. The Lion's words had cut her, awakening fresh feelings of guilt and rousing painful thoughts of her father. Dying on the battlefield would hardly have been punishment enough for the pain she had doubtlessly caused her beloved father. However, that, too, would have punished her father, and she knew that Aslan would not wish to inflict more pain on His friend. Whatever her punishment would be, she would bear it alone.

The sternness in the Lion's gaze was replaced by tenderness. "Do not fear my anger, Daughter. All things have their place in this life. Though your decisions may have brought you painful consequences, they may bring you far greater joys in years to come." He breathed gently in her face. "Now, enjoy the time you have remaining to you this day."

* * *

_Of course Arrani wasn't going to get off with the stunts she pulled at the beginning of the story. Aslan's prompting some introspection from Arrani. I hope it doesn't come off forced or sudden. Let me know. ;)_

_Sorry for the wait. Hope I haven't lost you all. Real life calls. I've got one more chapter written down that can go up soon, and after that, I've got some more writing to do, so wish me luck._

_Elena_


	16. Goodbye

_I'm back! My apologies. I decided to take heed of Mercury's advice and write some more chapters before posting this one. I've gotten at least two chapters ahead at this point and am getting to where the story will pick up again with more rapidity. _

_Just so you all know, I've decided to keep this as one story and so have had to struggle through writing the bridging chapters. It doesn't come as easily as one might think and, though they are now written, may need some more extensive editing before I feel happy about posting them. So do not fret over the wait. The story is still flowing, I promise! Happy reading!_

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen: Goodbye**

Knowing that she would soon leave made it difficult for Arrani to stay focused on any one task for long. She had nothing to pack because she had come with nothing, but there suddenly seemed to be so many goodbyes that she couldn't leave unsaid. The first one was Brynn. He had done far more for her than any Talking Horse should ever have to do for a human.

"Don't expect me to give you a ride again, filly," he said, blowing on her hair when she returned to the stables to say goodbye to him, "but I will miss you tickling my whiskers."

She grinned as she planted a light kiss on his muzzle. "I wouldn't dream of riding you again, Brynn. You're far too noble for that."

"Goodbye, Arrani," he replied. "For what it's worth, you weren't a terrible rider, even if you did squeeze my haunches a little tightly at times."

"We were in the middle of battle!" she retorted, "And I'm sorry, but you tried to unseat me a couple of times and I wasn't about to just fall off." She fell silent for a long while, rubbing the Horse's nose and toying with his forelock. "I'll miss you."

"And I, you. If you ever return to Narnia, come and find me. Perhaps we'll go for a stroll together, find a nice patch of grass, and sit and graze."

"I don't know about the grazing part, but I'll take you up on the rest of the offer. If I come back." She kissed him one last time and hurried out of the stables, determined not to let him see her cry.

Walking briskly across the small courtyard toward the castle entrance, she wiped her eyes and pulled up short as she saw Caspian coming down the steps, fully decked out in Telmarine Court regalia. He certainly looked kingly. He smiled warmly as he drew near her and motioned for her to follow him. They crossed the courtyard to see Peter and Susan walking among shady columns with Aslan, apparently deep in conversation. "The people are gathered," he said, "we are ready."

Aslan looked at him. "Very good." His eyes rested on Arrani for just a moment, and she knew instinctively that her time left in Narnia was almost up. Feeling her pulse speeding up, she forced herself to take several deep breaths and savor the moments she had left.

Caspian nodded and turned back the way he'd come while Aslan, Peter and Susan resumed their conversation. Arrani wavered for a moment, trying to decide who to join, but she hurried to catch up to Caspian and fall into step beside him.

"You're very quiet, today," Caspian said, after they'd walked for several minutes in silence.

"Just enjoying the Narnian air, Your Highness," Arrani replied softly.

He shuddered beside her. "Please, _never_ call me that, Arrani. I can't stand that title among friends."

She half-smiled. "Peter and the others are the same way. Perhaps someday you will grow accustomed to it." When he didn't respond, they walked in silence for a while longer. At last, she asked him, "Why have your people gathered?"

"Aslan wants to grant those who don't want to share this kingdom with the Narnians a land of their own to live in," he replied. "Those who wish to live in peace with us may remain."

"Do you think many will leave?" she asked.

He looked sad. "Yes. There have been too many generations of nurtured hatred between the Telmarines and the Narnians. I understand their feelings, but my first duty is to Narnia and her native people. Everything else comes second."

"You will be a good king. The people will love and respect you. I wish I could see it."

He stopped. "Won't you?"

The question tugged at her heartstrings. "No, I don't think I will." His face fell in dismay and she reached out to touch his arm. "I must return home, Caspian. My father needs me… and I need him. But I will treasure my memories of you and Narnia forever."

They had nearly reached the terrace where all the Telmarines had gathered and could hear the gentle rumble of a milling crowd just around the corner. There was a small moment that they shared in silence as her words hung in the air between them. Caspian seemed to be toying with several different emotions that chased themselves across his features, some of which made Arrani tingle pleasantly. However, he settled at last on clearing his throat and saying, "We'll speak more later, after this is over."

Arrani felt a pang in her chest as he walked briskly out to face his gathered people. There wouldn't _be_ a later. Aslan had joined Caspian on the terrace, as had Trumpkin, Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy. It was time for her to join them as well.

Aslan was standing in front of a majestic-looking archway and speaking to the assemblage. "Men of Telmar, you who seek a new land, hear my words. I send you to your own country, which I know and you do not."

"But we don't remember Telmar," one of the Telmarine captains objected above the noise of the crowd. "We don't know where it is, or what it looks like."

"You came into Narnia out of Telmar," Aslan replied, "but you came into Telmar from another place. You do not belong to this world at all." He looked piercingly at Caspian, whose face was alight with surprise and confusion. "You, Sir Caspian, might have known that you could be no true King of Narnia unless, like the Kings of old, you were a Son of Adam and came from the world of Adam's sons. And so you are. Many years ago in that world, a shipload of pirates was driven by a storm to an island. There they did as pirates would: killed the natives and took the native women for wives. They fought and quarreled and killed each other until at last, six of the pirates fled with their women into the mountains in the center of the island, hoping to find a cave in which they could hide. This cave was, in those days, one of those magical places that serve as chinks between that world and this. They crossed through and discovered the land of Telmar, which they claimed for their own and they grew into a great nation.

"And now, you men and women of Telmar, will you go back to that island? It is no bad place, uninhabited and filled with water, food, timber, and fruitful soil. I can send you to this place, but once you arrive, the door through which I send you will close forever."

Arrani watched the faces of the people as they pondered over this decision among themselves. Some appeared distrustful, others open, others uninterested. At last, the same man who had spoken first stepped forward, accompanied by the woman Arrani recognized from the castle assault as Caspian's aunt, her infant son cradled in her arms. "I will take the offer," he told the Lion.

"It is well chosen," Aslan replied, looking pleased, "and because you have spoken first, strong magic is upon you. Your future in that world will be good. Come forward." He breathed on the man and woman and they walked through the archway behind the Lion, disappearing into thin air. Several shouts and exclamations of surprise echoed through the crowd. The fear and tension seemed to increase tenfold.

One of the Telmarines raised his voice above the others. "How are we to know that you do not mean to kill us, Great Lion? Why not send one of _your_ people through it?"

This was the moment, Arrani knew. The time had come for her to go. Even as Reepicheep volunteered to brave the archway, she braced herself to say the words. To her immense surprise, just as she opened her mouth to volunteer, Peter stepped forward. "We will go," he said, loudly enough to be heard by those assembled. He glanced at his siblings. "Our time is up. This is goodbye."

"You mean we're not coming back to Narnia?" Lucy asked, looking dismayed.

"Oh, you and Edmund are," Peter hurried to assure her, "At least, I'm pretty sure you will get to come back someday. But not Su and me. We're too old."

"Oh Peter," Lucy replied, taking his hand in hers, "How can you bear knowing you won't come back?"

He crouched down in front of her. "It's not so bad as you might think. You'll understand when it's your last time."

She looked skeptical, but nodded as tears began to form in her eyes.

"I will go as well," Arrani spoke up, stepping forward and placing a hand on Lucy's shoulder. Caspian glanced up at her sharply and she smiled sadly. "It's time for me to go home."

"But you can't come back to our world, Arrani," Lucy objected, "You belong to this one!"

Aslan chuckled warmly, "This doorway leads to many worlds and places, Daughter of Eve. She will find her way home. Now, children, say your goodbyes."

As the Pevensies began to give hugs and kisses to their Narnian friends, Aslan's eyes drew Arrani to him. When he began speaking to her, it was in a voice that only she could hear. "Because you left with no thought for your father, Star's Daughter, the price for your actions shall be that your friends here will not think of you after you leave them. You will retain all your memories of them, but will neither remember you or recognize you if they should see you again. You, however, will think of them oft."

It was a terrible thought, and tears filled her eyes. "Oh Aslan," she said miserably.

His eyes softened. "If the friends you have made here truly love you, perhaps, someday, they will know you again. But it will be a long, slow process for them to reclaim what they will have lost."

With tears still flowing down her cheeks, she nodded resignedly. He breathed a little courage into her heart and bestowed a Lion-y kiss on her forehead. "Bid your friends farewell, Star's Daughter."

She turned away from him, feeling the ache in her heart, as though the process had already begun. It was almost unbearable, knowing that those she left behind would not think of her. The first she came to was Trumpkin. He blinked at her, hands firmly clasped around his belt. "Good luck, Starlet," he told her gruffly.

"Thank you, Trumpkin," she replied quietly, "for everything." Before he could respond, she bent and placed a kiss on his forehead, making him flush and splutter at her for the breach of formality. But she could see in his eyes that the gesture touched him.

She turned to see Peter and Edmund waiting, having finished their goodbyes to the others. She pulled Edmund into a brief hug, which, though he appeared uncomfortable, he did return. She extended a hand toward Peter. "Goodbye, Peter," she murmured, "and thank you."

"Thank _you_, for all you've done for us, Arrani," he replied warmly, his eyes twinkling. "We couldn't have done it without you. Well, maybe we could have," he conceded as she raised an eyebrow, "but it would have been different." He pulled her into a quick, brotherly hug and placed a kingly kiss on her forehead. "Good luck to you."

Lucy was next in line, and she hugged the older girl's waist tightly. "Goodbye, Arrani. You'll be a good star."

"Half-star," Arrani corrected mildly, but she didn't try to argue any further with the clear-minded little girl. Lucy was more right than she could possibly know, in so many ways.

Susan broke away from hugging Caspian and came toward her, and Arrani's eyes filled with tears all over again. She wanted so much for Susan to remember her and the friendship they'd created. They embraced in a flurry of tears, holding onto each other tightly. They both knew this would be the last time they ever saw each other, and they wanted to savor this last moment together. Perhaps some friendships just weren't meant to last. "I'll think of you every day," Susan promised, kissing Arrani's cheek.

Arrani bit down on a sob as she nodded, knowing the words would not remain true. "I'll never forget you, Su," she vowed. "Maybe someday we'll see each other again."

The last person she had to say goodbye to was Caspian. She almost couldn't bear to look in his eyes, knowing that this was, perhaps, the most unexpected goodbye he was facing this day. She stood in front of him, trying hard not to cry. He reached out and lifted one of her hands. "Do me a favor," he said hoarsely, clearly fighting back his own emotions as he plucked at the gloves she was still wearing. "Never wear gloves again. You have nothing to hide."

This was a promise that, at last, she was willing to make. "I won't."

He smiled. "Besides, only I know anyway."

"I know," she replied, almost choking on the last word. "And it will stay that way."

He suddenly pulled her into a tight hug, burying his face in her shoulder. She hugged him back, feeling her tears soaking into his doublet. It was the first time they'd been so close to each other, and she never wanted to let go. Even more than Susan, Arrani wanted Caspian to remember her. This, she knew, would not come to pass. Aslan's word was absolute. It was the consequence of her disobedience to her father.

She pulled away and pulled her gloves off. Sure enough, her hands were glowing visibly, even in the bright sunlight. She reached up and touched his cheek, wanting to say something, but no words were even close to being adequate. He seemed to understand, anyway, and bent forward, placing his hands on either side of her head and pulling her in close enough for him to place a lingering kiss on her forehead. "Goodbye, Arrani."

"Goodbye, Caspian." With that, she turned and walked resolutely through the archway.

_The segment where Aslan speaks to the Telmarines about their alternate home is taken nearly word for word from the book, with a few splices and deletions for better flow. I liked the way Lewis told the story and couldn't really come up with a decent paraphrasing of it. But I thought I would stick my disclaimer in for good measure. _

_I chose to address the Suspian kiss by not addressing it. I couldn't think of a non-sueish way around it and so I directed Arrani's attention to them at the time that they ended the hug, rather than earlier on. It might have happened, it might not have. Arrani doesn't know, and so neither will you, I'm afraid. Unless I choose to enlighten you later. :)_

_Thanks again, and keep reading!_

_Elena_

* * *


	17. Home Again

**Chapter Seventeen: Home Again**

Various archways blurred past Arrani's vision as soon as she stepped through the doorway. One looked like a tropical island paradise, not so different from her own home, another looked fleetingly like an enclosed tunnel with several similarly-dressed people milling around. She couldn't even begin to guess why they might be gathered in such a place, but she didn't have much time to ponder it, because suddenly, the most beautiful and welcome sight opened up in front of her, and she stumbled out of the blur onto the cool, elegantly carved stones of the open-walled structure of the Three Sleepers slept their eternal sleep.

And there, just a few steps beyond, with his back to her, stood her father. He seemed to sense a change behind him and he turned suddenly, his face blossoming with surprise and relief as his eyes settled on her. Some of her lingering tears still trickled down her cheeks as she walked swiftly across the space separating them. He opened his arms and she entered them willingly, pressing her face into the front of his sweeping robe and deeply inhaling the scent of hot spices that always lingered on his skin. She felt his hands, so much hotter to the touch than hers, anxiously caress her cheeks, trailing along the outlines of her visible bruises.

"He promised you'd come back, my child," he murmured.

"And so I have."

"Are you whole? Are you well?" he asked anxiously, his eyes traveling over her new collection of battle scars.

"Yes, Father," she replied, feeling a pang of sadness. _She_ was whole. The memories of her friends were not. Unbeknownst to them, a gaping hole had suddenly opened where their memories of her should be. The thought made her ache.

She suddenly sensed a change in the smell of the air. A heavy, musky scent wafted over them and she turned to see Aslan standing nearby. "As I promised, Ramandu," the Lion rumbled softly, "your daughter has returned to you whole and unharmed." He directed his attention to Arrani's tear-streaked face. "Do not grieve too long over your punishment, Child. Your initial thoughtlessness set in motion certain events that should not have come to pass so soon. Though you sorrow now, all your former happiness and more will be granted to you, _if_," he placed a delicate stress on the last word, "you devote yourself to learning from your mistakes. You should also apply yourself to the improvement of your mind. Study hard and well, and you will be rewarded."

"I will try, Aslan," Arrani replied, hurrying to dry her tears, aware as ever that her hands were glowing as she brushed her tears away. Remembering her promise to Caspian, she made a conscious effort to avoid tucking them out of sight and instead clasped them in front of her in plain view. The Lion seemed to notice this, and His golden eyes sparkled warmly at her.

"Do more than try, Daughter," Aslan responded firmly through His smile. "Just because you are a woman does not mean that you should be inferior to men in your understanding. You are meant to be equals. This is a lesson you would do well to learn before you marry."

"Marry?" she repeated sharply. The remark had caught her off-guard, but she ducked her head respectfully as Aslan's eyes narrowed ever so slightly at the tone in her voice. "Forgive me," she murmured apologetically, "but there are no men here, besides my father."

"That hasn't stopped you from meeting many eligible young men so far," the Lion pointed out with a twinkle in his eyes. "You may meet more in the future."

Arrani wanted to respond to this, but Aslan's tone indicated that the conversation was closed for the time being and she bit down on the questions beginning to swirl around in her mind. Her father left her side and walked a short distance away to converse briefly with Aslan and bid Him farewell. The Lion glanced in her direction one last time. "Heed my words, Daughter of Ramandu," He commanded her gently. As she nodded, He turned and faded into the ocean mist that lingered perpetually around their home.

As Aslan's presence faded, her father's relief faded and was replaced by all the righteous anger of worried parent. Ramandu rounded on her, his eyes flashing angrily. "Have you any idea how much I worried about you?" he asked sharply.

He had every right in the world to be angry with her and she knew it. Spreading her hands helplessly, she said, "I'm sorry, Father."

"It will take a lot more than sorry to resolve this fully. Aslan has told me a little of your experience in Narnia. First, you will tell me why you left here without speaking to me, then you will explain to me what you've learned from this experience, if anything."

Still feeling a little overwhelmed by the emotions of the day's events, she shrugged listlessly. "There's so much to tell," she replied.

"We have time," he pointed out logically. He gestured her into a seat midway down the table from the Three Sleepers. Resigned, she sat down, ignoring the food arrayed across the table, and Ramandu seated himself across from her, temporarily denying her the closeness that she wanted so badly at that moment.

"I don't know where to start," she said at last, keeping her eyes on her glowing hands and away from her father's watchful gaze.

"You left me, sneaking away like a thief in the night aboard the Sleepers' vessel. Why?"

"I wanted to know about the lands you told me stories about," she said.

He nodded, as though expecting this answer. "But that's no reason to sneak away without telling me," he added shrewdly, his eyes regarding her calculatingly.

She flushed in response. "To be honest... I didn't like being a part-star. I was never good enough," she hurried to explain, seeing her father's expression twist in surprise and mild offense, "as a human or a star. I thought, perhaps, that by going to Narnia, I could escape some of that and pretend to be something other than I am." She shook her head in chagrin. "I should have known that would never be possible."

"You were foolish," Ramandu told her bluntly and she nodded, accepting his criticism without any argument. There was a pause as he continued to watch her carefully. "I assume you've learned your lesson, Daughter?" he asked her after several minutes.

She nodded. "Among others."

Ramandu allowed another long silence to percolate between them, doubtlessly knowing that Arrani was being punished more by her own mind than by anything he could do or say to her. "Tell me of your punishment."

Fresh tears pricked at her eyes. "I never meant to dishonor you," she murmured.

"Nevertheless, you did. Tell me of your punishment."

"I…" she stopped, searching for the words that brought the least amount of pain to say. "They won't remember me. Not one of them."

Finally, her father rose and walked around to seat himself beside her, allowing her the comfort of his nearness. "This upsets you?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but Caspian's face flashed across her mind, choking the words in her throat before she could get them out. Her father reached out and touched her cheek with his warm fingers. She leaned toward him, wanting to bury her face in his robe once again. "I want them to remember. I want _him_ to remember," she murmured into the folds of her father's robe, almost to herself.

Ramandu did not press her for more information immediately. Instead, he held her tightly and allowed her to cry into his shoulder. When she at last regained some composure, he pulled away from her and surveyed her critically. "You have much to learn," he told her. "But I'm grateful to have you back. We will start by studying about some of the great fools in history. Perhaps that will inspire you to think twice before doing anything foolish again."

She allowed a rueful smile. "You really do intend to punish me, don't you?" she asked him.

He smiled, but his eyes remained serious. "I intend to teach you. Whether or not that is a punishment is entirely up to you."

* * *

_And our celestial delinquent (as Mercury Gray so eloquently put it) gets the talking to from her father that she deserves. I hope it played out well. Now, we're into the bridging chapters that will span the time between now and when Arrani and Caspian meet again. I'm actually working on that exact segment right now._

_Thank you all for hanging with me through this! More coming soon!_

_Elena_


	18. Aboard the Dawn Treader

_Thanks to all my reviewers! You're wonderful! As for the question asked by my anonymous reader (which makes it hard to get in touch with you, by the way -- I hope you check back here if you want the answer) a Mary-Sue is a character who is usually just wish-fulfillment of the author. Beautiful, kick-butt talented, can do absolutely everything and make the male protagonist fall madly in love with her, usually accompanied by the tell-tale warning flags: unique and often unpronounceable name, extraordinarily blessed with musical ability -- usually singing -- has the odd/mystical animal companion, and non-cannonical powers. Essentially, she's the most obnoxious thing ever invented by writers. You'd probably beat her to a pulp if you found her hovering around your man in real life. Not that that happens in fanfiction, but still. It would in real life. Yeesh. That was supposed to be a short definition._

_I don't think Arrani's suffering too badly from this dreadful syndrome. The fact that Mercury Gray -- among many others -- likes her speaks well for her. Anyway, on to the long-awaited next chapter. Thank you for your patience through my ramblings._

**

* * *

Chapter Nineteen: Aboard the _Dawn Treader_**

Three years later, Caspian stood on the prow of the _Dawn Treader_, staring out across the wide expanse of sea that lay to the east. His friend and captain, Drinian, stood nearby, issuing orders to the deckhands as they scurried up into the rigging and down again, seeing to the various necessities that kept a ship running properly. They had picked up Lucy, Edmund, and their young cousin that morning and Caspian had just left Lucy to dry off and change in his cabin. Her story was remarkable, but, considering the circumstances under which they'd met the last time, it wasn't particularly hard for him to believe. He'd long since accepted that Aslan had ways of making things happen, especially regarding Lucy, Edmund, and her siblings.

He sighed as he remembered the last time he'd seen them. The day they'd left through the magical door. It had been a sad day for all of them, especially since he'd known then that he'd never see Peter or Susan again. He'd doubted that he'd see Lucy or Edmund, either, but here they were, fallen back into his life out of the blue.

Now, he just had to finish his quest to the utter End of the World and answer the deeply-rooted urge he'd long felt to explore the farthest reaches of the East. He had no idea where the impulse had come from, but it drove him relentlessly onward, despite the hardships they'd already encountered. The story he gave to his crew was that they were searching for the Seven Telmarine Lords who had escaped from his uncle's corrupt rule and fled into the East, but that was only partly the reason. If he'd tried to explain the real reason, he was sure his captains would have him locked up in a second, fussing over whether their king had gone mad. He genuinely wanted to _know_ what was out there, and to find the source of whatever was driving him on.

Drinian seemed to notice Caspian's preoccupation and came to stand beside him. "Are you feeling quite well, Your Majesty?"

Caspian frowned. "How many times do I have to tell you to just call me Caspian," he replied.

"My apologies… Caspian," Drinian replied, smiling slightly.

He also smiled forgivingly. "I'm feeling quite well, Drinian," he conceded, returning his gaze to the gently rolling waves. Movement caught his eye as Edmund and Lucy – with their sulky cousin in tow – emerged from below decks and joined him at the prow.

They had cleaned up and donned some of the spare clothes Caspian kept on board. Edmund was now tall enough and broad-shouldered enough to fill out Caspian's clothes and they looked well on him. Lucy had had to make do with a set of cabin-boy's clothes, since they had no dresses or gowns on board, but even she looked far better than she had when Caspian's men had pulled her from the ocean. She and Edmund were both a little older than when he'd last seen them, but they'd told him that three years had passed in Narnia while only one had passed in their land. The gap in their ages was even more significant now, and the thought amused him. Technically, it narrowed the thirteen hundred-or-so years between them and brought him just a little closer to their Narnian ages. No matter how many times he thought about it, the idea still boggled him.

"Tell us about your voyage so far, Caspian," Lucy asked, addressing him, as always, by his given name, just the way he liked it.

Edmund echoed his sister's request and soon Caspian found himself immersed in a retelling of his exploits at the jousting tournament in Galma, their frustration at the still-winds that had delayed them for a few weeks after that, their brief battle with a Terebinthian pirate ship, and finally, their landing in the Seven Isles and their departure from those islands six days ago. "We hope to make landfall on the Lone Islands the day after tomorrow," he said, finishing his tale at last.

"Oh," Lucy sighed dreamily, "I wish I could have seen Galma and Terebinthia again. It seems like such an age ago that we saw them last, don't you think, Ed?"

"Technically, Lu," her brother replied with his characteristically wry expression, "it's been _several_ ages since we've set foot on those islands."

"Oh, I know that," she replied good-naturedly. She was about to add more when a groan drew her attention away from them. Caspian followed her gaze as she turned to look at her cousin – whom Edmund had introduced as Eustace. He was currently leaning against the railing, looking thoroughly seasick and miserable, despite his clean clothes. "Oh dear," she said, hurrying over to him, "If only I had my potion with me! It'd fix him right up."

Caspian felt less than inclined to offer his assistance to this boy, who had been rude and unaccommodating from the moment he'd set foot on the _Dawn Treader_, but he said nonetheless, "Actually, Lucy, I have your potion with me. You left it behind the last time and I decided to keep it safely in my treasury in case you ever returned. I brought it along on the voyage; you never know what kind of things might happen." He eyed the sullen-faced cousin of the Pevensies with distaste and added, "If you think it should be wasted on a little thing like seasickness."

Lucy ignored this last comment and tended to Eustace with all the benevolence and sweet gentility that he'd always admired in her. Caspian found himself feeling glad that she and Edmund were with him on this journey. There was something about their presence that made him feel like he wasn't just chasing an illusion.

When Eustace had been ushered to bed and the majority of the crew had bedded down for the night, Caspian remained up on the deck, gazing at the constellations arcing over his head. They seemed bigger, grander, than they had in Narnia, as if going to the East brought them a little closer to Heaven. He traced the outline of the Leopard and, unbidden, the snatches of a conversation trailed across his memory. _It was stars that started this whole thing_… It was strange. He could remember saying the words, but he could not, for the life of him, remember to whom he'd been speaking. It was like this gaping hole had opened in his memory and swallowed the rest of the conversation and the person involved. He made a face at the sky. Strange that it had never occurred to him before.

Maybe he was just worrying too much about his own sanity. Now he suddenly had missing memories? Unlikely.

"You look busy," Edmund said, coming up to stand beside him, gazing up at the constellations as though greeting old friends. In way, he probably was.

"Just thinking," he replied guardedly. He'd always gotten along well with Edmund, but they'd never conversed as easily as he and…. who? Susan? Yes, it must have been her. She'd known more about him than anyone else. Or maybe it wasn't her. _For crying out loud, get a hold of yourself, Cas,_ he scolded himself, _or you really _are_ going to go crazy._ "How are your siblings?" he asked, hoping to ease some of the tension in the air. They may have fought alongside each other, but still, it had been several years, and neither of them were quite the same people they used to be.

"They're doing fine," Edmund replied with a shrug. "Peter's studying with Professor Kirke – he's been to Narnia, too," he added when Caspian furrowed his brow at the name, "And Susan's in America – this country across the sea from where we live – with our parents."

"Do they… remember Narnia?" he asked hesitantly. If Susan was the one he was remembering, he sort of hoped that she thought of him every so often.

"Peter still talks of it a lot, especially since he's started studying with Professor Kirke. Susan… she's a bit different than you probably remember her. She doesn't talk very much about Narnia anymore, though every now and then, we catch her looking at pictures that remind her of Narnia." He grinned slyly. "She's mentioned your name a couple of times since we've been back. It seems you made an impression on her. She's even loosened up around other guys."

A pleased feeling warmed his cheeks, but it wasn't quite the rush of elation he'd been expecting.

"So…" Edmund continued, when Caspian didn't respond in time to keep that avenue of dialogue going. "What are we looking for on this voyage of ours?" The sudden change in topics prompted Caspian to suspect that Edmund was uncomfortable discussing his sister's relationships – and probably relationships in general – and wanted to steer the conversation into safer waters.

On a stroke of either insanity or inspiration, Caspian decided to give him the full truth. "The official objective is that we're trying to track down the Seven Lords who fled Narnia when my uncle usurped the throne. But more than that, I have this urge to go as far East as I can. I want to see what's out there."

"That's not too unreasonable," Edmund pointed out, apparently picking up on some of Caspian's embarrassment about his ulterior motive, "There are rumors as old as Narnia itself that Aslan's home lies to the utter East, at the End of the World. There were quite a few good sailors in the time my siblings and I ruled Narnia who went off in search of it. No one ever returned, or if they did, it was because they didn't get far before having to turn back for one reason or another." He appeared lost in thought for a moment. "I wouldn't mind seeing Aslan's Country myself."

Caspian nodded, allowing himself to attempt to imagine what it might be like. Then he shook himself and returned to the subject. "It's more than just that, though," he said, desperately wanting Edmund, of all people, to understand. "I feel like parts of me are missing and that I'll find the answers somewhere out there." He waved vaguely in the direction they were going.

Edmund regarded him silently for several minutes, and Caspian began to wonder if he made a mistake in being so frank with him. Their friendship wasn't all that close to begin with. At last, just as Caspian opened his mouth to say something that would dismiss his own words, Edmund spoke. "Sometimes I feel the same way. I've wanted so badly to come back to Narnia. Lucy too. She started asking me questions the other day about some of the things that happened to us the last time, and I couldn't remember some of them. I thought I was losing my mind," he admitted with a wry smile.

Suddenly Caspian felt much better. "I'm glad I'm not the only one," he said, and Edmund looked at him for a moment before they both began to laugh. It felt wonderful to have good friends aboard the _Dawn Treader _with him.

* * *

_I will always have a soft spot in my heart for Edmund. He's just so endearing. From here on out, I will attempt to divide the 3rd person POV as evenly as I can between Arrani and Caspian. I like getting inside his head. :)_

_I have about three more chapters lined up to post (after I reread them a few times for clarity and non-sue-ness) but I will send out a disclaimer right now: I'm in the process of moving back into my apartment after spending a lovely-but-busy summer working and living at home with the fam. So I'm going to be pretty preoccupied for the next several weeks. I'll do my best to keep updating._

_Happy reading, as always, and I hope you find many good and well-written stories in your fanfic-reading. May you write well, too. (Which reminds me, if you have a story that you really, REALLY want me to take a peek at -- not edit, just review -- drop me a line and I'll see what I can do)_

_Elena_


	19. Morning Musings

**Chapter Nineteen: Morning Musings**

Arrani opened her eyes, relieved to see that the sun was beginning to rise. She'd just had another nightmare and didn't particularly want to try to recover from it in the dark. It had been three years, and the dreams had faded in both intensity and frequency, but every now and then, a terrifyingly vivid one would resurface to shake her up. Last night's dream was especially gruesome, because it cast her Narnian friends as the fallen soldiers at her feet, rather than the usual faceless Telmarines. Taking a steadying breath of the cool, misty air, she pulled on a light, airy robe over her sleeping gown and wandered barefooted through the grass toward the shore.

Settling down on her favorite rock at the very edge of the sea, she pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on her arms, watching the light grow in the east. She'd spent many long, lazy days, perched on this rock and reading whatever books and scrolls her father had recommended. But today was not a reading day. She felt no desire to pick up a book or a scroll and pore over ancient languages that she still had not mastered. Instead, she closed her eyes and allowed her mind to travel over the faces of people she usually tried not to think about: Susan, Peter, Lucy, Trumpkin... and Caspian. She shivered as his face drifted across her mind: his had been the most brutally disfigured in her recent nightmare and she didn't want to recall those memories.

The wind shifted, plucking at her unbound hair, and she raised her head to let it caress her face. It was blowing from the west. From Narnia. She could almost convince herself that she could taste the clear, rich Narnian air, despite the inestimable distance that separated her from Caspian's land. How often had she daydreamed that he would come riding on that easterly wind in a magnificent ship, bringing Trumpkin and Brynn with him, telling her as he landed on her island that he had never really forgotten her! But of course, Brynn would never board a ship, and it was doubtful that Caspian would be able to leave his kingdom, especially so soon after reclaiming his throne. The breach between Narnians and Telmarines was too large to heal so quickly, even with help from Aslan.

Caspian's frequent presence at the back of her mind was no new occurrence. In fact, she had begun to doubt whether she had ever _not_ thought of him. She felt it most acutely in those treasured moments when she stumbled across some buried jewel of information or trivia in her studies. She wanted to share that knowledge immediately, and she always found herself wishing Caspian was there to share the joy of discovery with her.

_Your friend has never once abused the knowledge you have given him…_ She replayed Aslan's words over in her mind as she stared out at the Western Sea. It baffled her that it had taken her so long to recognize that fact. She'd been sulky, irritable, and sometimes even downright offended when he'd tried to broach the topic of her hands, never once realizing that he'd been trying to help her. What a fool she had been! It would have been no small wonder if he had _chosen_ to forget her, had Aslan given him the opportunity and spared his memories of her.

_But there were good moments, too_, a part of her mind whispered comfortingly. Their playful little spar in the How, polishing weaponry together, sleeping under the stars. And that moment of fleeting bliss just before she had had to come home.

"Arrani?" her father's voice called to her out of the mist.

"Coming, Father," she replied quickly, rising to her feet and picking her way back up the rocky slope to the grassy knoll above. Her father's silvery figure looked even more pronounced in the misty morning light as he walked toward her. She allowed a smile to spread across her lips as she closed the distance between them and he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"How did you sleep, my child?" he asked her, his keen eyes surveying her face with the unmistakable air of someone who already knew the answer.

"Well enough," she allowed. "Just another nightmare." She wasn't about to let him know how badly last night's dream had shaken her up.

He raised a skeptical eyebrow, but did not press the matter further. She had told him often enough about the nature of her dreams and the aftermath that still occasionally stalked her nights.

Instead, he withdrew from his robe a battered-looking scroll. "I found this for you to read today. It's a record of the Telmarines, brought by the Sleepers on their vessel. I decided that you were ready to read it now. Perhaps it will distract you from whatever thoughts are troubling you," he added, giving her a shadow of a wink.

She took the scroll with a rueful smile. "You know me too well."

"I should certainly hope so," he replied with a twinkle in his eye. He patted her arm and moved past her, presumably to find some studying of his own to do.

She smiled fondly after him and returned to her rocky reading place, rolling out the scroll as she did so. The script was spidery and difficult to decipher, but at least it was written in her native language. She supposed someone must have either translated it or written it down after the Telmarines had arrived in Narnia. Or perhaps their languages had always been the same. That seemed to be the rule of thumb for the different nations in this world, as well as for the Children of Adam and Eve who visited them. In fact, apart from the Black Dwarfs and some of the giants, Arrani could not remember ever encountering a language barrier, either verbally or in print. Most of the languages her father had spent the last three years teaching her were those of the stars and other, far older things than the world in which she lived.

Abruptly, she pulled her mind away from its wanderings and focused on deciphering the narrow, slanted handwriting on the scroll. Sure enough, it was a written, though brief, retelling of the story she had first heard from Aslan's mouth on that long-ago day in Narnia. It was told from the point of view of the man who first stumbled upon the passage to Narnia, telling of his desire to save his family from the other pirates with whom he'd been stranded. In fairly vivid detail, it recounted his astonishment at stumbling through a crack in the rock and out into the lushly-forested lands that lay west of Narnia. The rest of the scroll described the founding and growth of Telmar, concluding with the narrator's ascension to position as the king of his new kingdom.

She put it aside, thinking once again of Narnia and the lands Westward. She was positive that Caspian would have loved to read this scroll…. _Enough!_ she thought sharply. She must stop thinking about them! It had been three years and she'd maintained remarkably good control of her thoughts during that time. It must have been the nightmare that triggered this sudden change in the focus and control of her thoughts and it could only do her harm. Thinking of her Narnian friends only brought heartache, because they couldn't possibly remember her and therefore would never end up coming to see her at the Beginning of the End of the World. After all, how could they find her if they didn't even know to look for her in the first place?

* * *

_Enh. I've toyed around with this chapter too much already and I'm still not entirely satisfied with it, but I don't know how else to make it work with the chapters that follow it (which, you'll be proud to know, I've already written). Basically, Arrani's had time to examine her feelings for the past three years. This sets her up for the emotions she'll be dealing with when Caspian and Co. land on her shores. _

_And the third to last paragraph... well, it was sort of my personal musings about language in the Narnian world. I was thinking about what languages Arrani might study, and realized that, for the most part, all of Lewis' characters and nations speak English. This of course makes it easier for the writer, but still, I was intrigued. So forgive that whimsical musing, since it was as much mine as it was Arrani's. I hope it didn't seem too out of place. _

_Please read and review, as always!_

_Elena_


	20. The End of the World

****

Chapter Twenty: The End of the World

"Oh! Look at that!" Lucy cried.

Caspian glanced up sharply from looking over the newly-filled in maps that Drinian and their on-board cartographer had hastily cobbled together based on the distance they'd traveled and the places they'd seen. He relaxed, however, when he realized that Lucy's tone was one of delight, rather than warning. Setting down the measuring tool he'd been holding, he joined Lucy on the prow of the _Dawn Treader_ and looked out across the sea that shone like glass beneath them. Tucked against the horizon line and growing quickly was the outline of another island. Largely due to the setting sun behind them, this one looked as though it were bathed in fire. The crimson light fell on its gently rolling hills and tapered capes, making it glow with breathtaking beauty.

Drinian came up beside him, curious about what they were staring at. He scanned the growing landmass and turned back to the ship. "Land ho!" he called out in a clear, ringing voice. Soldiers, sailors and cabin boys alike scrambled on deck to catch a glimpse of this latest island looming toward them out of the ocean. Caspian thought he heard a great many sighs and expressions of relief at the apparent harmlessness of the island. Their memories of the Dark Island were still all too fresh.

"Do you smell that?" Lucy asked him, her eyes full of childlike wonder and delight. "It's like a … a dim, purple sort of smell."

"Don't be silly, Lu," Edmund said, coming up to stand next to her. He sounded stern, but his eyes were sparkling at his beloved younger sister. "How could anything smell purple?"

Caspian breathed in the air wafting toward them from the east, savoring the mild scent of wildflowers and seabreeze. "I think I know what you mean, Lucy," he said at last. "It reminds me of the color purple somehow."

Lucy shot her brother a triumphant look before returning her gaze to the island's welcoming-looking hills and coves. "Will we make landfall tonight, Caspian?" she asked him without looking back.

For answer, Caspian cast a glance at Drinian. His friend and captain bowed slightly. "I think we will, milady. I'll make ready." With that, he turned and set about ordering the men to prepare the anchor and the rowboats for landing.

It seemed an age before they finally pulled in sail in one of that glorious island's coves. All of the men piled into the rowboats, eager to set foot on such a lovely shore and equally eager to leave their sea legs behind for a few days. Lucy, Edmund, Eustace – who had become much more companionable and well-tempered since his sojourn as a dragon – Drinian, Rhoop – whom they had rescued from the Dark Island – and Reepicheep all crammed into a dinghy and rowed eagerly for shore.

Once they had disembarked, Caspian led them inland, climbing up the first hillock for a better view. When he reached the top, he pulled up short. There, spread out before him, was a sort of open-aired atrium with smoothly flagged stones and exquisitely etched columns. And there, in the middle, stood a magnificent table, covered with a cloth that matched the crimson color of the sunset. The table bore the most incredible feast he'd ever set eyes upon – even including the best feasts that Narnia could boast – and he felt himself unconsciously salivating at the sight of so much food. It had been far too long since he and his companions had enjoyed a fine meal, especially one so fine as this promised to be.

Before he could get close enough to reach out and touch the food, however, Lucy pulled him up short with a hand on his arm. "Wait, what's that?" she asked, pointing to an obscure gray mass at the other end of the table.

Some great, gray, fuzzy thing appeared to have taken over the chair at the head of the table and the two chairs on either side of it. Well aware of the strange and often dangerous things they had already encountered on this journey, Caspian felt a strange reluctance to approach them. The very air around this patio – if indeed that's what it was – seemed to carry a sense of mystery and magic. He had half a mind to tell his men to pack up and return to the ship, but before he could open his mouth, Reepicheep had scrambled up onto the table and begun dashing nimbly through the piled plates of food. Keeping a hand on his sword hilt, he determined not to let his fear get the better of him and he took a few cautious steps forward while his pint-sized captain surveyed the strange figure with his bright black eyes.

"These will not fight, I think," Reepicheep said at last, nosing at them.

"What are they?" Lucy asked, coming closer, though she remained behind Caspian for protection.

"Why, they're men!" Edmund exclaimed, pushing past his sister and leaning forward to get a good look.

"Dead?" Caspian asked, ready to hurry Lucy away from the potentially gruesome scene if such was the case.

"No, Sire," Reepicheep replied, extracting a hand from the mass of hair and beard that had grown over their bodies and over the table around them, "they are still warm and this one has a pulse. They appear to be sleeping."

"Odd," Caspian said, glancing around to see if he could determine the reason for their sleep. Something still felt… not quite right. He was almost sure that this island still had secrets that it had not yet revealed.

"It must have been a long sleep," Edmund said, cautiously touching one of the long strands of hair that trailed over the back of a chair, "for their hair to have grown so long."

"Perhaps it's an enchanted sleep," Lucy suggested, "and we're here to break it?"

"Perhaps," Caspian agreed. "Ed, see if you can wake that one up, Lucy, you shake this one awake." Together they shook the shoulders of the sleeping men, gently at first, then more roughly. For a moment, it appeared to work. The man Caspian had shaken raised his head up and muttered, "I'll go eastward no more. Out oars for Narnia." But then he fell back into the same, deep sleep as before. Edmund and Lucy had similar results in their attempts.

"_Out oars for Narnia_…" Caspian repeated thoughtfully. "These must be three of the Telmarine Lords. Look for their rings and we'll see if it really is them." Sure enough, their rings identified them as Lord Revilian, Lord Argoz, and Lord Mavramorn. Caspian couldn't help but smile. At last, all of the seven lords had been accounted for. His official mission was complete. And yet… he wasn't at all ready to go home just yet.

"Well, shall we eat, or not?" Reepicheep asked, gesturing at the magnificent spread before them.

Caspian was about to say yes, but he looked again at the three sleeping lords and their partly-touched meals and suddenly felt very wary. "I don't think I will. We have no way of knowing whether or not the food is responsible for their sleep."

Drinian cleared his throat. "Perhaps we ought to return to the ship, Your Majesty?" he suggested.

"Aye," another sailor agreed. "There's a bit too much magic in the air for my tastes."

Reepicheep glanced at Caspian, his gaze full of determination and just the tiniest bit of challenge. He knew only too well what that expression meant. The Mouse was going to stay on the island for as long as it took to prove himself. That meant that he, Caspian, should probably do so as well. It would not look good to be outdone by one of his captains. "Drinian, take your men and return to the ship. I will stay here and see what the morning light brings."

"I will stay, too," Reepicheep said, laying one of his dainty paws on the hilt of his sword. "I cannot countenance shrinking from the unknown on such a grand adventure as this. We will stand watch over this island tonight."

"I'll stay, too, Reep," Edmund added. Lucy and Eustace also contributed their desire to wait here until the morning.

"Sire, I must protest—" Drinian began, but Caspian cut him off.

"Peace, my lord Drinian. All will be well. Your place is with your ship. You have duties to attend to while we five wait here. Do as I say."

Drinian was clearly unwilling to disobey a direct order, but he cast an anxious glance back at them all the same as he returned with the rest of the men to the ship. Caspian watched him go, simultaneously touched by the sea captain's loyalty and tempted to follow after him. The light was fading rapidly and most of the patio was already thrown into shadow. The mysteriousness of the place seemed to deepen with the advent of night and Caspian felt some of his vague uneasiness return as he and his four companions selected seats about halfway down the table from where the three lords slept.

* * *

They dozed restlessly for the next several hours as the night deepened and filled with restful nocturnal noises. Just before the first light of dawn, Caspian stirred in his chair and sat up, rubbing his sore neck and mentally reminding himself never to doze in a stone chair again, no matter how exquisitely carved it is. The "purple" smell Lucy had described was stronger in the still night air than it had been the day before and he sat up straight, looking around. There was tension in the air, as if something wonderful was about to happen.

Looking ahead, he could just make out the outline of a low hill beyond the pillars. Just as he was about to look away from it again, a light emerged from the hill as a figure opened a door and stepped out into the night. Caspian felt his breath catch in his throat and he felt torn between jumping up with his sword drawn and staying exactly where he was. He settled for the second option as the figure carrying the light drew nearer. His companions had begun to stir as well, and most had taken notice of the light moving toward them.

At last, the figure stopped just on the other side of the table, close enough for the light of the candle to illuminate her clear blue dress and long golden hair. Caspian blinked for a moment. He had not expected see so lovely a vision on his travels, especially after meeting the daughter of the Duke of Galma. Her eyes registered the briefest surprise at finding strangers at her table, but she composed herself rapidly and addressed them. "You have come far to sit at Aslan's table. Why do you not eat and drink?"

There was something in her eyes as she spoke to him and Caspian could not quite place it. It almost seemed as if she had been expecting them. Her hands glowed faintly against the silver candlestick she was still holding. At the sound of her voice, Edmund, Reepicheep, and Eustace had risen to their feet, staring slack-jawed at this strange and mysterious apparition who could only be a great lady. Caspian hurried to follow suit, feeling that this was perhaps the most appropriate thing to do, especially since they'd undoubtedly trespassed on her home. "Milady," he began, struggling to call up his most formal and kingly persona, "we feared the food because we thought it had cast our friends into an enchanted sleep."

She smiled slightly, her eyes straying to a stone knife resting on the table near the Sleepers. "They have never tasted it," she replied.

"Then what happened to them?" Lucy asked with her usual straightforwardness. She alone seemed to feel comfortable in the presence of this lady. Caspian supposed it to be largely due to the fact that she alone among them was female, and therefore unlikely to be enchanted by the characteristics of her own sex.

"They arrived here seven years ago, in a ship worn ragged and battered from their journey. One of them desired to remain here and live out his days in peace. The second wanted to return to Narnia in the hopes that a King Miraz was dead," she paused for a moment, her expression curiously reminiscent, "but the third, who was a masterful man, declared that they should neither stay nor return but sail onward, seeking adventure for the sake of adventure. They began to quarrel and he caught up this Stone Knife and would have fought with his companions. But it is not a thing meant for his touch and as soon as he picked it up, a deep sleep fell upon all three and they have been here ever since."

"Did you see the whole thing?" Edmund asked, looking curiously at the Sleepers and at the Stone Knife she had indicated.

"I was present, yes," she replied guardedly.

"What is this Knife of Stone?" Eustace asked, regarding it skeptically.

Her eyes sparkled temptingly and she seemed to direct her next question mainly at Lucy and Edmund. "Do none of you know it?"

"I think…" Lucy began, trailing off uncertainly as she glanced at her brother. "I think I've seen something like it before. The White Witch used a knife like it when she killed Aslan on the Stone Table long ago."

The girl's face warmed with approval and she seemed greatly pleased that Lucy had recognized it. "It is the same knife. It was brought here to be kept and guarded in honor until the end of the world."

Edmund squirmed uncomfortably at the reference to Aslan's sacrifice and he spoke up suddenly, "Please don't think I'm a coward or anything of the sort, but we've had a lot of frightening adventures on this voyage and I've learned that things aren't always what they seem. I can't help believing what you say, but that kind of thing happens around witches, too. Forgive me for saying so, but how are we to know that we can trust you?"

"You can't know," she said seriously. "You can only believe – or not," she added in a voice so quiet that Caspian had to strain to catch the last two words.

"If it please you, Sire," Reepicheep's voice broke the stillness that followed her words, "I will drink to the Lady. If the food is poison, let it be said that Reepicheep died in service to his King."

The girl looked as though she wanted to object or reassure them, but she held her tongue and settled for clasping her silvery hands in front of her. The valiant Mouse climbed up onto the table and, at his bidding, Caspian filled a small goblet from a flagon of wine. Reepicheep picked it up and turned to the girl, who watched him with a mixture of respect and affection. "To you, Lady. May your days be long if your words are true." With that, he tipped the contents of the cup into his mouth and swallowed several times in quick succession. "By Aslan's mane," the Mouse cried, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "That is the best wine I've ever tasted."

For the first time, the girl laughed, a sound that seemed to carry in the clear morning air like a bell. Seabirds stirred and began to flap from their perches to begin their search for breakfast. Caspian needed no further encouragement to sit down and dig in to the luscious feast. His three human companions were not far behind him and Reepicheep was already up to his nose in a creamy bread pudding. "I should hope it is," she said as they tucked in eagerly, "it _is_ Aslan's table, after all."

"So it really does belong to Aslan?" Lucy asked, looking hopefully up from her breakfast. "Does that mean we'll get to see Him?"

She smiled warmly and seated herself in a chair opposite from them, helping herself to a cup of tea. "This table is set by Aslan's bidding, for those – like you – who come so far. You have nearly reached the utmost East." Winking confidingly, she added, "That is why there are many who call this land the World's End. Although you can go farther, it is the beginning of the End of the World."

Her manners were so easy and familiar that Caspian felt himself begin to relax in her presence. She certainly seemed harmless enough, and, as far as witches go, he wasn't so sure that he'd mind being held prisoner by her forever, if she turned out to be a witch. Before he could allow himself to think that tangent through to its conclusion, however, he jerked his mind sharply back to the issue at stake, namely the matter of his Telmarine Lords. "What are we to do about these Sleepers?" he asked her.

"That, milord, is for you to decide," she replied cryptically.

Recalling a story told to him by Lucy on their voyage, Caspian said half-teasingly and half-seriously, "In the world my friends come from, they have a story of a prince or a king coming to a castle where all the people lay in an enchanted sleep. In that story, he could not dissolve the enchantment until he had kissed the Princess."

Her eyes sparkled mischievously, and Caspian felt his stomach swoop in answer. Leaning forward, she brushed her hair aside and murmured, "Here, it is different. Here, he cannot kiss the Princess until he has dissolved the enchantment."

He could only assume that part of that was meant as a challenge. "Then," he said firmly, whether or not it _was _a challenge, "in the name of Aslan, show me how to undo the enchantment at once."

Abruptly, she sat back, an inscrutable smile on her lips. "My father will teach you that." With that, she got up and walked over to the door from which she had first come, leaving Caspian staring after her, his mind caught up in a whirlwind of emotions. What had just happened?

* * *

_And... enter the drama again. I think this and the following chapters read best if you're thinking about how BOTH Caspian and Arrani must be thinking. That's how I wrote them. _

_Read and review, as always! _

_Elena_


	21. Unenchantments

**Chapter Twenty-one: Unenchantments**

Arrani closed the door behind her and leaned heavily on it, feeling faint and breathless, despite the richness of the air around her. She'd flirted with him! Caspian had been on the island – _her_ island – for less than a day and she was already _flirting_ with him! Did she honestly think that she could just pick up from a point that they hadn't even gotten to _before_ his memories had been erased? She must do better. She had to stay in control. Traitorously, her mind replayed the look in his eyes when he'd responded to her unspoken challenge. He'd played back. Much as she enjoyed the sensation, this wasn't how she wanted it. She may have had plenty of time to think about their relationship, but he hadn't. That meant that she would have to start it again from ground zero so that he wouldn't be left wondering how she knew him so well. It had to progress at _his _pace, not hers. If it even progressed at all. She had to force herself to confront the notion that Caspian might leave her island and never think anything of it.

And Lucy and Edmund! It was so hard seeing them look at her without the faintest sign of recognition. Especially Lucy, who had always known things beyond what she could see. If anyone had the ability to see past the barriers Aslan had placed on their memories, it should be Lucy.

"Arrani?" her father came toward from the darkness of his sleeping chamber.

She took a deep, steadying breath and forced her voice to speak levelly. "I'm here, Father."

His eyes surveyed her keenly. "Are you well, my daughter?"

Of course he'd see right through her façade. "Yes. I just… just need a moment."

"It's them, isn't it?" he asked her, raising her chin so that her eyes met his. "Your Narnian friends are here at last, aren't they?" She could only nod mutely, and he pulled her into his arms. "Aslan is in control, Arrani. Just trust Him to guide your actions with regard to your friends. Perhaps this is what he meant when he said that your choices would bring you great happiness in the future."

"Or it could be a means of punishing me further," she replied, rubbing her temples in an attempt to soothe her mind.

"I don't think you deserve more punishment than you've already borne," Ramandu said gently.

"That's Aslan's decision," she contradicted mildly, "and, with that in mind, I must be prepared to accept all possible options," she added. She started to turn back to open the door, but then stopped and shook her head in frustration. "How am I supposed to behave with people I know and love like family, when they don't know me at all?"

Her father laid a hand on her shoulder and turned her back to face him. "Just be yourself, Arrani. Be the person who managed to win them over in the first place. Perhaps it will be your part to _help_ them remember you." He regarded her lovingly for several long moments. "You have grown greatly in the last few years, my beloved child, but perhaps this is the true test of your maturity. And," he added, allowing a sad smile to cross his face, "if you should handle the events surrounding your friends with the grace and composure that I know you have… I'll relinquish my guardianship over you." His voice faded to a whisper. "You will be allowed to go wherever it is that you wish to go… to choose the life you wish to live."

She couldn't quite believe what she was hearing. Suddenly, the prospects of such a choice seemed more daunting than the situation right outside her door. Impulsively, she threw her arms around her father's neck, knowing how hard it must be for him to let her go. "Thank you," she whispered fervently. "I can't see how I'd ever be able to leave you, but the choice means everything to me."

He chuckled as he pushed her back. "I think you'd be surprised how easy it will be for you to leave me… if the right conditions occur."

"Such as?"

But he only winked mysteriously at her and reached past her to open the door. "Let's go sing in the day and meet these friends of yours."

Still turning his words over in her mind, Arrani followed her father back outside to rejoin the Narnians seated around Aslan's Table. First, she must sing with her father just as they did every morning. A part of her was pleased that her friends would at last get to see what her life at home was really like, and it was that thought that she held onto as she raised her arms and joined her voice to her father's. As they sang, the light grew in the East until the Sun itself peeked over the horizon, casting a long, golden ray along the Table before rising up in its full, blazing glory.

Not long afterward, Arrani heard the familiar answering song of the White Birds as they swept toward them from the East, bearing the precious fire-berry that would take away a little more of her father's age. Their wild voices rose in harmony and descant to the melody she and her father continued to sing, until at last, they all met in a final, resonating note and the birds settled on the table to eat their fill of Aslan's spread. One bird flew up to her father and placed the fire-berry in his mouth. He chewed it carefully and swallowed it while they turned to watch the birds finish eating and gather into the air again. They departed into the East, back to Aslan's country once again, just as they had done every day for as long as Arrani could remember.

Ramandu turned from the Table and addressed the five Narnians, who were still staring at the departing birds with easily recognizable expressions of wonder on their faces. "Welcome, my friends, to the Beginning of the End of the World. My daughter tells me that you have come to these lands on an errand for Narnia." He winked discreetly at Arrani, who could only stare at him open-mouthed. How could she have forgotten to tell him why they were here? Apparently, he had phrased his question well enough to draw additional information from them, because Caspian answered him.

"Sir," he said, getting to his feet and bowing gallantly, "will you tell us how to undo the enchantment which holds these three Narnian Lords asleep?"

Ramandu acknowledged the young King's courtesy with a dignified dip of his head. "Of course. To undo the enchantment, you must travel to the World's End – as near as you can get to it – and you must return, having left at least one of your company behind."

"What will happen to the one left behind?" Reepicheep asked probingly.

"He must go on into Aslan's country and never return to this world," Ramandu replied.

"That is my heart's desire!" Reepicheep exclaimed, sweeping a deep bow in Ramandu's direction.

"Are we far from the World's End?" Caspian asked, looking thoughtful.

"I saw all of these lands long ago, but it was from a great height and I cannot tell you such things as distance or time regarding them."

"Were you flying through the air?" the boy called Eustace asked. Arrani thought he had the look of a boy who had been used to being mean and snappish and had recently had a change of heart. He still retained some of the frown lines that come from not smiling enough, though he appeared to be decent and respectful now.

Her father smiled. "I was far above the air. I am Ramandu, and the days when I was once a star in the Narnian sky are far before your human memories have recorded."

"You're a star?" Edmund asked incredulously, and Arrani had to smile at the look of wonder on his face. It was so different from the skepticism with which he and the others had greeted her claims to starhood when they'd first met. The circumstances lent themselves better to such a claim here, where danger and suspicion were only minor concerns, and she supposed that her father looked considerably more dignified and star-like than she had looked with Nikabrik's knife pressed against her throat.

"Aren't you a star anymore?" Lucy asked, her eyes never straying from Ramandu's.

"I am a star at rest, my daughter," he replied gently. Arrani could detect in his tone some of the affection and endearment he had bestowed upon _her_ when she was Lucy's age. "I lived my life fully, until I was far older and weaker than you can imagine. I was then brought here, where, every morning, a bird brings me a fire-berry from the valleys in the Sun and each fire-berry takes away a little more of my age. When I am as young as newborn babe once more, I shall rise again into the sky and join in the great dance of the stars. But enough of this idle talk," he added as Lucy and Eustace opened their mouths to ask more questions, "Are you determined to sail into the East and break this enchantment, or will you return into the West?"

"How can one even question it!" Reepicheep replied fervently. "I, for one, am determined to fulfill our quest and rescue these three lords from their enchantment."

Arrani thought she saw Caspian's eyes flick in her direction briefly before he turned to concur with Reepicheep. "I think the same, Reepicheep. I could not bear to leave this mission unfulfilled."

"A word of caution," Ramandu added, glancing significantly toward the ship that waited in the harbor. "You cannot sail into the East with men unwilling or deceived. That is not how great unenchantments come to pass. Every man in your crew must know where they go and why."

"And what about Lord Rhoop?" Lucy pointed out, "He is a broken man. Ever since his stay on the Dark Island, his dreams and sleep have been haunted by his memories of that time. If only there was a way to relieve him of that."

"Bring him here," Arrani said, speaking for the first time since she'd sung the morning song. At an approving glance from her father, she added, "We can give him sleep where no dream could ever approach. Let him sleep here, beside his companions until you return from your errand to the World's End."

She watched as Caspian absorbed her words and exchanged glances with Edmund, Lucy, and Eustace before nodding his consent. It felt very different to be in the position of a hostess offering help and aid that was fully in her power to give. During all her time in Narnia, she had never been in a position to _give_ anything besides her own best efforts. Here, she could provide food, peace, shelter, and rest to her travel-worn friends. She liked being able to return the favor at last.

The sounds of many footsteps and muffled talking reached their ears and they turned to find the rest of Caspian's crew joining them. Caspian rose and went to them, presumably to tell them about the part of the voyage still to come. Though she dearly wanted to listen in to his plans, her attention was drawn to a bedraggled, sickly-looking man who lingered at the tail-end of the crew. From Lucy's description, she was fairly certain that this was the Lord Rhoop. He looked the part. Summoning the part of hostess once more, she approached him and swept a modest curtsey before him. "My Lord Rhoop," she said gently, taking his hand in hers, "please, allow me to show you to a seat. You must be tired."

At first, he flinched at her touch, but her efforts at charm were not entirely wasted, and he allowed himself to be led over to a seat next to his three fellow lords. "Thank you, young lady," he mumbled as she helped him settle comfortably in his chair. Seeing them, Ramandu hurried over to her and laid his silvery hands on Rhoop's gray head. The tired old man sighed deeply and sank into peaceful slumber, a lingering smile on his lips as his head fell against his chest.

Arrani, too, touched his head and stroked some of the worry lines out of his cheek. "Be at peace, milord," she whispered.

"Thank you," Caspian said beside her. She jumped slightly and he smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to surprise you," he hurried to say.

"Oh, you didn't…" she trailed off, unsure about what exactly to say.

"He needed this," Caspian said to break the silence, gesturing to the now-sleeping Rhoop. "We may never know what horrors he endured on that island, but they were terrifying indeed." He paused. "I don't think I would wish such a fate on even my worst enemies."

"Not even your Uncle Miraz, if he were still alive?"

He looked up at her in surprise. "How did you know about that?"

Realizing that she'd made a slip, she hurried to backtrack. "Even here, we have heard some tell of your doings in Narnia, King Caspian. These three lords spoke enough of Miraz and yourself for my father and me to deduce that your relationship was strained at best."

He chewed on this information for a moment and Arrani started to wonder if he would buy it at all. At last, he answered her initial question. "No, I would not wish a fate like Rhoop's on my uncle, though there was a time when I might have." He glanced at the position of the sun and started. "Forgive me, Lady. I have lingered too long. My quest still awaits." He granted her a small smile and, with a perfunctory bow, hurried away to deal with matters among his crew.

He was almost exactly the same as she remembered. She sighed happily to herself, thinking back on their brief conversation with relief. Despite the fact that he didn't remember her, at least some of their old friendship seemed to linger in the way they talked to each other. He even still had that knack for catching her unawares when she was busy with something else.

* * *

_Arrani's more of a bystander here (harking back to the first few chapters of this story, eh?) because the dialogue is mainly between Caspian and Co and her father. Although, I did like expounding more on her involvement with Lord Rhoop. I always sort of liked that scene in the book and wished Lewis had said more about it. It shows her nurturing side._

_I'm not so sure how I feel about this chapter either. I think it works sometimes, and other times, I just stare at it and try to figure out what I'm trying to say with it. Feedback is appreciated. Is it progressing too fast? _

_I still have a few chapters before I need to write more, which means I need to write them now before I post any more chapters. All this on top of trying to move back into my apartment! How exciting!_

_Reviews are lovely and they make me happy. Hint hint nudge nudge_

_Elena_


	22. Dressed to Impress

**Chapter Twenty-two: Dressed to Impress**

Caspian stared moodily out at the sea, watching the shrinking shapes of Lucy, Edmund, Eustace, and Reepicheep as they set off to the utter East in their little coracle. He had never liked goodbyes, and this one cut exceptionally deep, because his friends were leaving him to go on an adventure that he _desperately_ wanted to be a part of. Curse these duties that bound him to Narnia at such a time as this! Aslan's face flashed across his mind briefly, however, and he hurried to stifle such thoughts. The talking to he had so recently received from the great Lion was not one to be taken lightly, and he still felt acutely ashamed that he had behaved so childishly. But it didn't make the parting any easier to bear.

"Sire, I must confess that I am glad we didn't have to tie you to the mast to keep you with us," Drinian said, coming up to stand by him, a wry smile tugging at his lips under his finely-trimmed mustache.

"I behaved like a fool, Drinian, and I apologize," Caspian replied as sincerely as he could, trying at the same time to keep the bitterness out of his voice as he watched Lucy turn around and wave at him one final time.

"Milord, there is little to forgive. Many of us – myself included – would have liked to see this journey through to its very end. But some things are not meant to be. Besides," he added in a lighter tone, "there is a lovely maiden waiting on Ramandu's Island. You did all but promise her that you would come back, after all."

Caspian chuckled ruefully. "Lucy said much the same thing. I'd forgotten how hard it is to fool her about anything."

"She sees far and clearly for one so young," Drinian agreed.

Biting back a laugh, he replied, "She's not as young as you might think."

Drinian glanced at him, apparently wondering again about the things Edmund and Lucy had told him about being the Four Rulers of Narnia so long ago. He doubted that his loyal captain entirely believed the tale, but Drinian had been sufficiently charmed by Lucy's innocence and Edmund's calm assurance that he had offered no objections to treating them as he was expected to treat Caspian.

They stared out at the silver gash the coracle had carved through the lilies for several moments before Drinian cleared his throat and requested Caspian's authority to turn sails for Ramandu's Island. He granted it with as much goodwill as he could manage, and, with one long look backward, hurried to occupy himself in his cabin until they were safely away from the lure of the East.

He was in the middle of poring over a list of concerns that he'd just drafted for his return to Cair Paravel when Drinian and Rynelf tapped on his door and looked in on him. "We make landfall very soon, Sire," Drinian announced, "do you wish to get ready?"

"For what?" he asked, momentarily disoriented while he tried to pull his mind away from the thought of finding a bride among the dauntingly-long list of ladies in Narnia. It was a matter his counselors had been bothering him about for the last year, and he'd successfully found a reprieve in this journey to the East. To be quite honest, that was another motive for the length and duration that he'd pressed onward.

Shooing Rynelf off on some important errand, Drinian uttered a genteel cough. "Need I remind how lovely you seemed to find Ramandu's daughter on our last visit?"

Catching on at last, Caspian sighed and said reluctantly, "She _is_ attractive, I'll grant you that, Drinian, but I really don't want to think about impressing any ladies right now. That will be a sore enough subject once we return to Narnia, and I'm not looking forward to it."

"Nevertheless, she has done us great service and – forgive my presumption – you might do well to appear as grateful and dignified as only the King of Narnia can."

Sighing again, he conceded. "Very well, but if I catch one whiff of you attempting to goad me into courting her – or any lady for that matter – I'll see to it that you spend the rest of your political career nursing the Sows in their swamplands. I mean it, Drinian," he added when his captain burst out in a hearty laugh.

"Land ho!" Rynelf called out, followed by the scurry of the deckhands as they prepared to drop anchor and make landfall. Glancing out the window, Caspian could see that it was some hours before the sun would set. That would give them sufficient time to set up camp on land, and perhaps to dine at Aslan's Table with Ramandu and his daughter.

Despite his objections to his captain, Caspian found himself spending a tad bit more time than he usually did on his appearance when he started getting ready. He stood uncertainly at his wardrobe for several minutes before he realized what he was doing, closed his eyes, and snatched something off its hangar. Resolutely, he donned the selected item – with his eyes still closed – and opened them to find that he'd put on his fanciest doublet. His resolve to wear whatever he had picked weakened. Now he _did _look like he was trying to impress someone. Before he could make up his mind to change it, however, Drinian entered, announcing that they were ready to debark for shore. Fancy doublet it was, then.

Drinian retained a tactful silence, but Caspian caught him glancing with great self-satisfaction at his kingly regalia. Choosing to take the high road, he studiously ignored these glances and thought instead about what he would say to Ramandu and his daughter, and how breaking the enchantment on the Three Sleepers would play out.

They landed on the sandy beach quickly enough, and Caspian climbed out of the dinghy, followed by Drinian, Rynelf, and the rest of his men. Appropriately taking the lead, he made his way up the first hillock and onto the stone patio that housed Aslan's Table. Just as the Star and his daughter had promised, the table was once again laden with the finest foods any man had ever seen, and his sailors fell on it with eager hands, casting anxious glances every so often in the direction of Rhoop and his three sleeping companions.

"I see you have returned, King Caspian," Ramandu said, coming toward them from the door in the hill. His deep, wise eyes regarded him with satisfaction and interest. "You did not go with your friends into the utter East?" The benevolent star seemed have intuitively concluded that Edmund, Lucy – and now Eustace – were more his friends than his subjects. Caspian wondered how Ramandu might have known this.

"I greatly desired to do so," Caspian admitted in as dignified a tone as possible, "but I made a promise to return, and I must hold myself to that promise." As he said this, he caught himself half-consciously looking around for Ramandu's daughter, and he flushed with embarrassment when he saw that Ramandu had noticed, too.

"She will be gratified by your nobility, young man," Ramandu said, his expression seeming to convey some deeper meaning than Caspian was at liberty to comprehend. "But first we must break the unenchantments upon your three friends," he said, breaking the moment with a pointed look at Aslan's Table.

Caspian turned back to the Table and found that he was genuinely glad be fulfilling this part of his quest. He may not have found all the answers he'd set out to find, but at least he would not go home with entirely empty hands. With Ramandu at his side, he strode over to the Three Sleepers and stood uncertainly beside them. "What happens now?"

"They are already awakened from their enchanted sleep, King Caspian," the star said, gently touching Lord Rhoop's worry-lined brow, "and they only await the voice of their liege lord to return them fully to the waking world. Call them back."

Caspian regarded him in confusion for a moment. He wasn't entirely sure how exactly to 'call them back,' but he supposed it never hurt to try the most straightforward thing first. Bending over the sleeping form of Lord Revilian and placing both hands on the man's shoulders, he said in his most commanding voice, "Lord Revilian, as your lord and King, I call you back to fulfill the oaths you made when you fled Narnia."

At first, he didn't think anything would happen. The only change was that the sounds of eating, drinking, and general merriment had ceased abruptly among his men when he had begun to talk. They waited with baited breath, staring intently at Lord Revilian for some sign that he had heard these words.

Caspian was just about to make up his mind to try a different tactic, when the sleeping lord stirred ever so slightly. His hand slid out from under his long, tangled beard and curled around the fork at his place setting. Very slowly, he raised his shaggy head and looked around in bewilderment. His eyes fell on Caspian's face and he started in surprise. "Who…?" he uttered croakily.

"Peace, my lord Revilian," Caspian said gently, feeling the words coming as naturally to him as they would in a conversation with Trumpkin or Drinian. "I am King Caspian the Tenth of Narnia. Miraz has fallen, and Narnia is at peace at last."

"Caspian?" the man repeated hazily. "But you were just a tiny child when I departed the western lands. How is this possible?"

Knowing that the full explanation would only bewilder Revilian further, Caspian settled on the simplest truth: "You have been gone a long time, my Lord Revilian. Much has happened in that time."

Lord Revilian seemed content to chew on this information in silence for a little longer, so Caspian continued on to repeat the process with Lords Argoz, Mavramorn and Rhoop. They awoke with similar reactions and confusion, except for Lord Rhoop, who raised his head, blinked up at Caspian, and mumbled, "So, you succeeded in your quest, my King."

"Yes, Lord Rhoop," Caspian replied gently. "And soon, we will all return to Narnia." He announced this last to the general assembly and, looking around as he did so, noticed that Ramandu's daughter had joined them at last and was standing next to her father.

"When do we set sail for home, milord?" Rynelf asked over his goblet of wine.

His first inclination was to direct that they should start homeward immediately, but he stopped, feeling that he was still leaving some loose ends untied. "We will rest and rejuvenate here for a few days," he said at last, glancing at Ramandu for approval. The star nodded graciously. "And when we are sufficiently contented, we will return home to Narnia."

Unconsciously, he found himself directing his gaze once again toward Ramandu's daughter, and thought he saw a shadow of remorse flit across her features. She noticed his gaze, but looked away quickly. Offering an elegant half-curtsey, she plainly excused herself from the festivities that ultimately ensued and disappeared over the crest of a nearby hill.

On an impulse, Caspian glanced back to see if Drinian was watching him. When he was satisfied that his captain was engrossed in recounting their adventures to the Three Lords, he hurried away into the increasing shadows and discreetly followed the path the girl had taken. He found her seated on a rock overlooking the sea, her face turned toward the setting sun and tinged a delicate rosy hue by the last rays of light peeking over the horizon.

Making sure to crunch a little bit of gravel beneath his feet so as not to surprise her, he approached. She looked up at him when he was closer, seeming surprised that he had followed her. Hastily, she got to her feet. "Forgive me, is there anything…?"

"No, milady," he said with an assuring smile. "Forgive me for my curiosity, but I wanted to know where it is that the daughter of a star goes to think" He hoped that he didn't sound as forward as he thought he was, and the look on her face told him that she didn't think so, so he bravely pressed on, "...and what she thinks about," he added, flashing his most charming smile -- the one that made all the Narnian ladies flutter their fan nervously.

She blinked at him, her brows gently furrowed in puzzlement. At last, she seemed to decide that there was no harm in his presence. She seated herself again, this time pointedly leaving a little bit of extra room for him to sit beside her. He accepted the unspoken invitation and seated himself next to her. He noticed that she seemed to be fidgeting restlessly with her hands, as though she wanted to move them out of sight. They were glowing slightly against the shimmery blue of her gown and he thought the silvery light flattered her slender hands. Deciding it wouldn't hurt to try to ease the tension with a compliment, he said, "Your hands glow like your father's skin. It's very pretty."

The look she gave him was eloquent with unspoken irony and he couldn't help but wonder what about him had prompted such a look. She regarded him searchingly for a few seconds before saying quietly, "Thank you." Turning her face away, she gazed studiously out at the rolling sea and said nothing more for a long time.

Caspian endured this silence for as long as he could before he decided to try again. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. It was kindly meant."

"I know," she replied. There was the tiniest trace of a smile on her lips now.

Feeling greatly encouraged, he said, "So, what do you like to think about when you come out here?"

She raised an eyebrow at his directness, but it was not an offended gesture. There was actually a familiarity in it, and he was sure that, despite the implied skepticism, she _was_ going to answer his question. Sure enough, she said, "I often come here to think about the far off lands in the West."

"Do you know them?" he asked, interested.

"I know _of_ them."

"Then you know of my country?" he asked.

Another ironic look, accompanied this time by a smile that only she seemed to know. "Yes, I know much of Narnia."

"Do you… do you know much about its recent history?"

There was a cryptic look in her eyes as she replied, "A little, but I should like to hear the story from you, Sire, if you are willing to tell it."

He proceeded to do so, trying to recount the story without betraying his frustration at how hard it was to remember some things. A lot of things. They didn't seem to flow together as well as they should have done. He could remember getting a cut on his right hand – he still had the scar to prove it – but he could not remember exactly why, or who had dressed it. Such a small detail was not important to the overall story, so he simply excluded it, but it bothered him nonetheless, especially because he had the strong impression that he had learned a lot about himself during that particular instance. There was also the matter of who had ridden on his right flank in the final battle against the Telmarines. He was a military leader, and liked to know and recount such details. The fact that he couldn't caused him no small amount of distress. The Star's daughter listened to his tale in stoic silence, her eyes never leaving his face. Most unnerving to him, however, was that she seemed to know when he was leaving out a detail that he couldn't remember. When he skipped vaguely over his hazy memories of polishing armor and talking to Trumpkin, or of the night after their last battle, when he'd lain out on the grass and fallen asleep under the stars, her eyes seemed to narrow slightly. He recounted his memories of the day the Pevensies had left, and only one detail seemed to surprise her.

"Queen Susan kissed you?" she repeated when he recounted the experience. Her mouth had fallen open in a small "O" and she stared at him in more surprise than he thought was really fair.

"Is it that hard to believe that she might want to kiss me?" he asked, feeling a twinge of wounded pride.

"No – I mean, of course not, I just didn't think…" she trailed off, obviously flustered. Such a minor detail to _him_ seemed to genuinely upset her, and he couldn't for the life of him imagine why.

Hesitantly, he offered an apology, "I'm sorry if something I said upset you…" he started, but she shook her head.

"It's nothing," she said hastily enough to convince him that she wasn't being entirely truthful, "I was just surprised. You never spoke of her as a romantic interest during your account, so it seemed to be rather... irregular."

He mulled over this for a few minutes while she turned back gaze at the sea. He could see that her cheeks were flushed pink by more than just the setting sun and he regretted having included such a trivial detail to upset. Granted, he'd had no idea that it would do so. Still, it was hardly tactful to tell a woman that another woman had kissed him. Perhaps _that_ was what had bothered her…

He opened his mouth to apologize, but the girl placed a finger on her lips. "It's alright, King Caspian," she said softly, "do not fret over upsetting me. You meant well enough and did not know that your words would have any effect. Just listen now."

He obeyed and followed her gaze westward, where the red sun was just emitting the last beams of light before sinking below the horizon. As the night deepened around them, he began to hear other noises: the soft cooing of some nighttime animal beginning to awaken, the hum of the evening insects, and, over all the other sounds, the gentle thrum of the sea as the waves washed against the rocks. Every so often, he felt a spray of fine mist brush against his face. He was just beginning to really relax when his companion stirred beside him.

"We should probably return before your men miss you," she said, breaking the night's spell.

"Won't your father miss you, as well?" he asked, following her lead and getting to his feet.

She smiled. "He knows where I am, and that I'm in good hands," she added with the barest trace of a coy tilt to her lips. It wasn't exactly flirting, but Caspian felt his insides do a tiny flip flop just the same. "We should go," she said again, when he made no move to leave. She seemed a bit anxious to get back to the rest of the company, but Caspian wasn't quite ready to relinquish the sole command over her attention just yet.

"Wait, Lady," he said. She paused and half-turned back to face him. "I'm afraid we're not quite on even footing yet. You know my name, but I don't know yours."

"Arrani," she replied succinctly, "my name is Arrani." She hesitated for a fraction of a second, as though expecting him to react somehow. He couldn't think how. The name was unfamiliar to him, lovely, but foreign. And yet… no, he was sure he would have remembered if he'd heard it before.

* * *

_So now he knows her name. Again. Dun dun dun. I tried this chapter out on my younger sister and she laughed at the part where Caspian gets dressed. Granted, she also wanted them to kiss and have Caspian suddenly remember, but seemed a bit too cliche for my tastes. Anyway, I'm adding two chapters at once because I want to, and it gives me something to do. I have more in the queue, but they're not quite up to par yet, so I'm giving you a treat while I work on sorting out how I feel about the rest of the chapters._

_Cheers! Elena_


	23. A Different Tactic

**Chapter Twenty-three: A Different Tactic**

Caspian took some time to think as he and Arrani strolled through the grassy hills several days later. They'd just been discussing some finer points of Narnian history. Arrani knew a remarkable amount about Narnia and its neighboring countries, but he supposed that could be explained by the amount of studying she'd done recently.

Despite his earlier reservations about her, he found himself greatly enjoying her company. She was like a breath of fresh air after being confined for three years in a court full of twittering young ladies seeking to impress their king. Rather than talking to him of frivolous things, she usually tried to spring some obscurely abstract conversation on him. Once, she asked him where he thought the Narnian constellations had come from. When he'd looked at her in bafflement, she laughed, and told him the story of the Leopard, her eyes dancing with a mysterious reminiscence the entire time.

The only people with whom he'd ever felt a similar amount of companionship were Lucy, Edmund, Trumpkin, and others who had fought with him in the battle for Narnia's freedom. If he didn't know any better, he'd have thought that he'd known Arrani for far longer than the few days he'd been on her island. There was an easiness in their conversations that he'd rarely felt anywhere else.

"What are you thinking about, Caspian?" she asked, the way he had that first night on the coast. Like Lucy and Edmund, she had, at his request, grown accustomed to using only his given name, without any of the titles that he so detested among his friends.

"I wish you had known Lucy and Edmund better. I think you would have liked them."

She smiled coyly. "I'm sure I would have."

The mysteriousness in her voice caused him to look around at her curiously. She'd said many things over the last few days that had had the same air of mystery, and he was starting to wonder if she knew a lot more about him and his life than she'd let on. She knew much of Narnia's recent history, for example, and frequently asked him questions about his rise to the throne of Telmarine that made him stop and think. But every time he tried to coax the sources for her information out of her, she smoothly sidestepped his queries and distracted him with some ancient record or another of the early doings of his people. And he, being as hungry for knowledge of his heritage and the heritage of the country he'd assumed rule over as he was, nearly always fell for it, whether he really wanted to be distracted or not. At times, it almost annoyed him, but her free, easy manners soothed his irritation before anything ever came of it.

Such was a similar case now. Before he could pursue the conversation to ask why she was so sure, she changed the topic to the reason for his journey now, at this time in his life. "We have talked frequently of your country's history these last few days, Caspian," she began, "but I'm afraid I still don't entirely understand what brought you on this voyage so soon after achieving peace in Narnia."

Ready as always with his standard answer, he replied, "I came to discover what I could of the seven Telmarine lords who fled from Narnia when my uncle usurped the throne."

Unlike his men, however, she was not so easily satisfied. "And yet you linger here. Is there some duty you hesitate to return to in Narnia?"

"Of course not," he replied defensively – although it was true that he was not looking forward to the prospect of finding a wife upon his return. "I stay because…" he trailed off, debating whether or not to tell her the same truth he had told Edmund. There was something about the openness in her eyes that made him want to trust her. And perhaps her knowledge could help him. "I stay because I have been hoping to find answers." He paused to see if she might reply. Instead, her expression grew studiously blank. With a sigh, he continued, "Some things in my memory… aren't quite how they should be. I keep feeling like there's something I'm forgetting."

"Like what?" she asked, looking thoughtful.

"That's what I'm hoping to find out," he replied honestly.

She seemed content to let this hang in the air without pursuing it, as she usually did. The discretion surprised him, since she seemed to like questioning him about the things that he didn't always remember perfectly. Her gaze flicked to him often enough, however, that he was sure she was still dwelling on his last statement. At length, she opened her mouth and said, "Perhaps you are close to the answers, but you aren't looking hard enough."

It was the same kind of tantalizing vagueness she'd employed when he'd met her for the first time. "Does that mean you know something you aren't telling me?" he asked, feeling his voice waver between hopeful and teasing.

This time, she almost looked sad. "Aslan has a hand in many things, Caspian. Perhaps it is to Him you should direct your questioning. It is not my place to seek to answer questions which matter so much to you."

It was just the kind of response she gave when trying to dodge his questions about her information on Narnia. Except now she was dodging information about _him_. How on earth did she know so much? "Arrani," he gently, resisting the urge to push her for more information, "if you know something, I have to ask that you share it with me. Perhaps it will help to hear it from your lips, which have so often spoken truth these last few days."

Through a sad smile, she replied, "I am honored that you think so highly of my lips, sir, but they cannot tell you what you wish to know. That truth can only be found inside of _you_." She reached out and touched his chest just above his heart for just a fleeting moment before giving a tiny start and withdrawing, the tiniest blush creeping up into her cheeks. She may have been embarrassed at her forwardness, but he was touched and amused by it. She had just done what no other lady of Narnia would have dared to do. They would rather sweep a thousand knee-creaking curtsies than be the first to lay a finger on the King without his permission. And some of his men wondered why he found Arrani's company so refreshing and enjoyable. She, of all fine ladies, reminded him most forcibly of Lucy and Susan and the days he'd passed in easy companionship with them during the war.

* * *

He retired to bed that night still thinking about the things Arrani had told him, as well as the things she hadn't. Almost idly, he found himself silently asking Aslan for a little help in discovering just what it was he couldn't remember. The thought drifted away from him, however, as he dozed off and began to dream.

_Images flashed before his eyes, replaying the scenes he remembered so well: watching Peter battle his uncle; staring down at his uncle's upturned face, knowing that the usurper's life was entirely in his hands; the castle raid that ended in disaster. But there was something extra this time. He'd burst through the stable doors on Destrier, with two other horses in tow. Doctor Cornelius had taken one and he had saved the other to help Peter escape the slaughter that was coming. But he hadn't galloped straight through the gate. He'd stopped to cut down a Telmarine. And when he'd rushed Destrier through the gate, he was suddenly aware of someone sitting on the horse behind him, arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Desperately, he tried to turn his head to see who it was, but whether the armor was too restrictive, or his dream wouldn't allow it, he couldn't. A glance down at the hands clinging to him, however, revealed that his passenger was female. Who was she? He distinctly remembered Glenstorm carrying Susan out of the fray earlier, and Lucy had not been present. _

_Another scene: he was allowing a girl – presumably the same one – to show him how to use a pair of small, slender Telmarine blades that she seemed to take a shine to. Next, she was cleaning them off with careful precision. Then: they were polishing armor together and talking about the coming siege._

_He was talking to the person who had dressed the cut on his hand. At last, he could see her face. She was rather pretty, though her face was streaked with tears and dirt from the battle. That was her! The person he'd been trying so hard to remember! Suddenly, every moment he'd spent with her during the Narnian War flashed through his mind in quick succession, flooding him with emotions and memories that he hadn't been able to touch for three long years. _

_Aslan's voice rumbled gently through his mind, "She was right, Son of Adam, all you had to do was ask…"_

Caspian sat bolt upright, cracking his head on the low ceiling of his cabin. The sound aroused Drinian, who came hurrying in, looking anxious. "Are you alright, Sire?" he asked.

Slightly dizzy from the pain in his head, he rubbed the spot and smiled up at his captain. "I'm fine, Drin. It was just a dream."

"Some dream," Drinian muttered wryly, "I don't think you've ever had one that whacked your head against the ceiling before."

Too ecstatic with his newly recovered memories – most of which were still playing through his mind even now – to really think about replying with something witty, he only said, "I'm fine, Drinian. Go back to sleep."

Drinian obeyed readily enough and departed, leaving him alone with his memories again. He remembered everything, now. He remembered the growing fondness he'd felt for his quirky and occasionally mysterious friend. He remembered the way his heart felt like it was about to ripped out of his chest when she announced that she had to leave with the Pevensies. He remembered pulling her into his arms and holding her tight, half-wishing that he could keep her there by force. What was she doing now? She'd had to return to her father, that much he knew, but why had she never been able to come back?

He would have to thank Arrani in the morning. It was her advice about Aslan that had brought this sudden recovery of his missing memories. Perhaps she hadn't known the nature of his missing memories, after all. She'd just understood that he was looking in all the wrong places for his answers. Whatever the case, he had been right about suspecting that his answers could be found in the East. Without Arrani, it would have taken considerably longer for him to come to the same conclusion. In fact, he might never have thought of it in Narnia, occupied as he was with the affairs of his country.

_Two yays: 1) Caspian has his memory back (I was getting tired of him angsting about it) and 2) I finally got it to work! I can't tell you how many copies of this and the next two chapters I have bumming around on my hard drive. I was going crazy thinking about it for well over two weeks and then finally, last night it was like DING! and it all kind of plopped out from there._

_As a thanks for being patient treat, the next two chapters will come fairly quickly while I write the ones that follow. Things should start flowing better from this point, so you can put down those sporks and the TP and channel your frustration with my delays into writing reviews! Yell at me if you want for making you wait so long, but just remember, it would have been horrible if I'd posted the original chapters I had written for this segment._

_Cheers and happy reading! Elena_


	24. A Slipperless Cinderella

**Chapter Twenty-four: A Slipperless Cinderella**

Arrani awoke with her father to sing in the dawn as usual, and as she paused to eat something from the table after the birds had eaten their fill. Since they tended toward the breads and berry-flavored foods on the table, Arrani's personal favorite foods – the rich, sweet custards made from cream – were usually left untouched. She helped herself to a small dish of nutty-flavored custard and watched as the Narnians filtered slowly up toward the Table to eat their fill of the food that remained. After the novelty of watching her and her father sing the first few days, they had grown accustomed to sleeping as long as they liked and joining them off and on throughout the day. Caspian's ship's captain, Drinian, still woke up early enough to see the birds fly in from the East, his eyes filled with reminiscence, often prompting Arrani to wonder what he was thinking about.

He was a middle-aged gentleman, and she wondered if he was married. How many of Caspian's men were missing their families while Caspian tarried here with her? While she was pondering such an idea, she caught Drinian looking at her, a twinkle in his eye. Drawing on her hostess role, she approached him. "I trust you slept and ate well, Sir?" she asked.

He laughed and raised his glass to her. "To my satisfaction, milady," he replied. "Far better than my lord, anyway."

She had the distinct impression that he was insinuating something, but she wasn't quite sure what it was. Fortunately, she was spared the necessity of coming up with something suitable to say in response by the arrival of Caspian, who was looking exceptionally cheerful. "May I have a moment?" he asked as soon as he was within a distance appropriate for talking.

She had been hard pressed to decline him anything even _before_ she'd begun to fall in love with him. Now, when every moment was precious, she'd discovered that the word "no" was no longer even in her vocabulary. Nodding, she allowed him to draw her away from Aslan's Table and commence the walk toward the sea that they had taken so often in the last week.

"I had a dream last night," he said with no preamble once they were alone. "Aslan restored my memories to me."

Feeling her breath catch in her throat, she stopped and stared at him. Was it really true? Had it really been that simple? He proceeded a few steps without seeming to notice that she was not at his side.

Finally, he turned around and looked at her, his brows furrowing in puzzlement. "You seem surprised. Didn't you say that I should appeal to Aslan for my help rather than pressing you?"

"What did you remember?" she asked, half-afraid that the possibility was too good to be true.

"I remembered _her_," he said, dropping his voice to a confidential murmur, his eyes scanning her face expectantly. "There was this girl that fought with us. She was mysterious, funny, charming… and she became my best friend."

There was no trace of recognition in his eyes, no teasing double-meanings. Just the euphoric light of someone who has discovered something extraordinary. She kept hanging on, hoping to hear him say her name with the recognition she longed for.

"I can't believe it!" he exclaimed, looking out at the broad expanse of sky with that irresistible sparkle in his eyes. "How could I have forgotten her? She meant the world to me, and I just forgot her." Suddenly he turned to her and took her hands in his. "Thank you for your advice, Arrani," he said, bringing her hands to his lips and kissing them each in turn. "I wouldn't have reclaimed my memories without you."

Arrani managed to smile back at him, but inside, she felt too numb to really celebrate the return of his memories. How could Aslan do this to her? Caspian remembered her, but he couldn't make the connection between her face in the past and her face now. She was just one, tiny, _crucial_ link away from being happier than she could ever remember.

"I wish I could find her," he said absently, completely oblivious to her blank expression, even though her hands had begun to glow again. Caspian turned away and ran a hand through his hair. "But it's probably impossible..."

Arrani took a deep breath, determined to remain composed, and said, "Anything is possible, Caspian."

He looked at her for a moment, seemingly puzzled by her matter-of-factness. "I suppose you're right," he said. "Aslan restored my memories, after all. I remember that she had these blades…. They were old Telmarine artifacts. That may be my best way of tracking her down. I doubt there's all that many of that kind of blade in existence anymore, especially since we've destroyed or melted most of the old Telmarine weapons to make new ones…" he wasn't really talking to her anymore, so she felt safe in turning away hastily as a traitorous tear leaked out of the corner of her eye.

Why, _why_ had she given those blades to Peter? She'd relinquished them into his care on that horrible night after the battle and had never wanted to see them again until now. It could have been so simple to just show him the blades and prove that she _is_ the girl from his memories. If she tried to tell him now, he might just think that she was seeking his attention like all those Narnian courtiers he'd told her about.

"Arrani, are you feeling well?" he asked tenderly, noticing her silence.

"Fine, I'm fine," she replied flatly, trying hard to avoid his gaze. She knew he was ecstactic and she hated to dampen his spirits with her unenthusiasm.

He obviously didn't believe her. "Talk to me," he said in a voice that was at once gentle and commanding. "You're not happy, right now. Is something bothering you?"

"I said I'm fine," she replied, making an effort to keep her tone light and soothing.

Regarding her seriously for a moment, he replied, "It's not something I said, is it? I hope you know that I could never bear to upset you." He paused for a second, as though searching for the right words to say. "It seems that whenever I start talking about people from my past, you start to clam up. I can't stand that. If such talk upsets you, I give you my word as the King of Narnia that I will be silent on that subject forever. I won't even _think_ about it."

Again with promises that couldn't be kept. She'd had to suffer through it once before. "No," she said, quietly, "don't make promises that you can't keep."

His eyes flashed. "I can and I will keep this promise, if you want me to make it."

Aslan help him, he really meant it. But it wouldn't stop him from dreaming of the girl he believed he'd lost forever. "Just leave me alone for a few minutes," she said quietly. "That's all I want."

He blinked, clearly hurt. "Very well." Slowly he walked away, and she watched him go.

When she was sure he was out of sight and hearing, she bent and picked up a hefty stone and threw it with all her might out at the ocean. "Why?" she cried at the empty sky. "Couldn't you just give him back _all_ of his memories instead of tormenting me?" Sinking down to her knees, she leaned forward and tried to take enough deep breaths to calm her nerves.

"Daughter of Ramandu, are you doubting me?" Aslan growled from behind her. Arrani spun around into a sitting position, terrified by the Lion's flashing golden eyes as he towered above her. "I was not the one who sent him away, and yet _you_ are angry with _me_."

"Aslan, I…" she began, but for the first time in her life, the Lion cut her off, perhaps because he already knew she had nothing to say.

"You _must_ stop clinging to the past, Arrani."

The rebuke in his voice made her bristle defensively. "What does that mean?" she asked, feeling some of her hurt fade in the light of His anger.

But the Lion had gone, leaving her alone to muddle through it on her own.

* * *

_So, surprise! I know you all wanted to find out how he tells her, and I don't think this is exactly what you meant, but just trust me on this one. Arrani will come out a better person for it all. So will Caspian, of course. The title popped into my head a few nights ago when I thought about how Arrani doesn't have her nifty blades from earlier. It's my tribute to Cinderella. _

_Please review, as always!_

_Elena_


	25. Drinian's Advice

**Chapter Twenty-five: Drinian's Advice**

Arrani's reaction had baffled him more than anything else ever had. He had thought that she would be happy for him, glad that he had solved the mystery that she'd been obliquely helping him to solve. Instead, she'd assumed this suddenly distant, skeptical attitude that simultaneously confused and irritated him. What did it all mean? Her sudden coldness hurt far more than it should have, and he was angry at himself for allowing her to so easily contradict him on his own oath.

He must have been glowering, because Drinian jumped to his feet and set down his wine glass the second he entered the patio that enclosed Aslan's Table. "Drin," he said tersely, "I need advice."

The older man raised his eyebrows in surprise. "This doesn't have anything to do with the lovely lady of this island, does it?" he said by way of reply.

Offering a very un-kingly snort, Caspian tugged a chair out and dropped into it. "She wasn't even _happy_ for me," he muttered, forgetting that he hadn't even told his captain why she _should_ be.

"Well, perhaps you should start from the beginning," Drinian said pragmatically, "and _why_ she should be happy for you."

Sighing reluctantly, he proceeded to explain his private reasons for embarking on their voyage and for lingering so long on the island. He then explained his dream and what it meant, and then he recounted his most recent conversation with Ramandu's daughter.

"And you promised her that you would never speak or think of this dream girl of yours again?" Drinian asked when he'd finished. "Aslan's mane, Caspian, did you really mean that? I'd have thought, knowing you, that you'd be tearing Narnia apart looking for such a girl by now."

"No, I never meant it like that," he objected. "I mean, I _do_ want to know what happened to her after she left, but no more than anyone else would be curious about old friends."

"She sounds like more than just an 'old friend' from the way you tell it, Cas," Drinian observed gently. "If I recall correctly, you just said that she 'meant the world' to you, didn't you?"

This line of questioning was throwing him off-balance. He sent an annoyed look at his captain, which Drinian subsequently ignored. "Well, she did. I remember feeling like the world was ending when she told me she was leaving."

Drinian smirked. "Are you sure you're not romanticizing that just a little bit?"

"Yes, maybe a bit," he admitted, "but that's not the point! She _did_ mean a lot to me."

"I think we're agreed on that," Drinian replied calmly. "What I want to know is if she still means that much to you _now_."

"Well, why wouldn't she?" he replied, feeling a little defensive. This wasn't exactly what he'd meant when he'd asked Drinian for advice. His captain was just rambling on about then versus now, rather than dealing with the issue at hand, namely, what he was supposed to do about Arrani.

Drinian seemed to be well aware of Caspian's growing ire, but he persisted nonetheless, a sly smile twitching under his mustache. "I'm sure I have no idea. Can _you_ think of any reason you might not feel the same about this girl from your past now that you're here?"

Caspian tried to see where his friend was going with this, but he was still too worked up over everything to focus clearly. It struck him that Drinian might be trying to mimic Doctor Cornelius' style of questioning, but he didn't really want to deal with that, either.

"Let me put this another way," Drinian said after a few minutes of watching Caspian stew. "Why did you make – or try to make – that promise to Arrani if you really care so much about this mystery girl of yours?"

"Oh come off it, Drin," he replied peevishly, "I was being a gentleman and trying to fix whatever I'd done wrong."

"So you didn't _really_ mean it?"

"Of course I meant it! I meant… every… word…" he trailed off, thinking about his motivations and growing increasingly amazed at himself for being so dense. Really, he should get an award for being so monumentally stupid. He looked up at Drinian. "I did mean it," he repeated.

"Why, though?" Drinian asked, beginning to smile broadly.

Caspian thought for a moment before answering. "She's like my best friend. I feel like I've known her forever..." he trailed off as an idea occurred to him. "Drinian! I should bring her back to Narnia! I know she would love it."

This time, Drinian laughed out loud. "Are you just doing this to be nice, or do you have another motivation?"

Nonplussed, Caspian stared at his friend. "What are you talking about?" When Drinian continued laughing, he narrowed his eyes. "Remember what I told you, Drin. One word about _courtship_ and I'm demoting you."

Still laughing, Drinian raised his hands appeasingly. "All right," he said between breaths. "I won't say anything. But when you've decided to stop living in denial, let me know."

Caspian made a face at him, which only made him chuckle more, but he said no more. Eventually, he finished his meal and headed off on some errand that called his attention, leaving Caspian lingering behind, thinking about what their conversation. What nerve! He, Caspian, was in no way ready to fall in love any time soon. The nagging of his lords and the simpering of his Narnian ladies had cured him of that for the time being. He'd know when he was falling in love, he was sure of it, and this was not it...

* * *

_I keep yo-yo-ing back and forth on whether or not this is too sudden. If you guys think so, I'll rewrite, it's no big deal, but right now, I think it's fitting with everything else that's been leading up to it. Besides, they're not into smooth sailing (pun intended) yet. _

_Thanks to all of you for being so patient and faithful as I work on balancing school, work, and writing. I'll try to get more soon._

_As always, please review!_

_Elena_


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